/There will come soft rains/

And swallows circling with their shimmering sound;

And frogs in the pools, singing at night,
And wild plum trees in tremulous white,

Robins will wear their feathery fire,
Whistling their whims on a low fence-wire;

And not one will know of the war, not one
Will care at last when it is done.

Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree,
If mankind perished utterly;

And Spring herself, when she woke at dawn,
Would scarcely know that we were gone."

-Sara Teasdale-



                A homework I did in September for a war poetry workshop in our Litterature Class. I hadn't so much time so I had to finish the painting in a very short time and in addition, at the boarding school but well, I managed.

materials : watercolors, pencils, salt