The Guardians, Poet and Painter
Extract from the book “The Guardians, Poet and Painter”:
As night set in, a gauzy cloud would sometimes spread from one side of the city to the other. A cloud that looked like costly silk and was fragrant with the odours of cinnamon, mint and sweet-scented pelargonium. And one of those nights, something strange and beautiful would happen: a flock of robins would wing their way across the city’s great expanse. From the towering pine tree in the flowery courtyard of the solitary painter to the little house where the poet lived with nothing but his flute for company. The painter, who lived on the eastern side of the great city, was slim and willowy and her face had the pale, smooth softness of a lily. The poet lived far off on its western edge and he too was tall and supple, with skin that seemed as if it had been fired from a blend of clay and bronze. (…)
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