Static

Ah! Mama! I can’t pray anymore and I weep more and more rarely.

But my soul thinks of you, of my thoughts, and my thoughts are consumed in grief.

I don’t ask you to pray for me. You know yourself what sorrows I may have. Tell me, dear mother, from the other world, from Paradise, from the clouds, from wherever you are, does my love console you?

Can my words distill for you a little sweetness, tender and caressing?

— My Life, Marc Chagall

Artwork:
Chagall, M. (1980). View of Notre-Dame. [Lithograph in colors]. Retrieved from Artsy.

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