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Un samedi après-midi,
Some sit, some sleep,
Some are in full bloom,
Others droop and wilt,
The joy and triste
Don’t sunder,
They co-exist
This perfect afternoon
Of unresolved desires
and daydreams,
Floating like bumblebees
Over the caffeinated minds.
On the Sabbath’s midday
A “bouquet of flowers”
From different towns
Is caught on camera
à un moment of blooming.
A still life of disorder,
An open-ended combat
Of vices – pleasures,
Virtue and abstention,
Суббота. Полдень
Entre le sable et le ciel.