oil paintings for me

 

Eternal wandering, thinking the wind blew up the sail! Montague Dawson

Eternal wandering, thinking the wind blew up the sail

Up tends to infinity, sparks flying, Soul

All Worlds Knowledge.I Light your eyes looking up

The lives of many all the answers for you, ship Life

My ship bright idea, it is weightless flight

Only hovers over the horizon as my light light sleep

At dawn on the road to the right, through the worlds expanse flight

Light sails flying, horizon embrace Worlds

My ship sails light, through storm his Destiny

To the horizon all accomplishments, joy and beauty

My life, light ship, on the seas of my dreams

In Eternity continue its flight, the seas of my destiny

 

 

Brandenberg Concerto

Night club over the ocean, and I nesus simple wave

Towards a foreign country, to meet their cool surf.

And I would like to turn around, but driven from behind winds,

And nothing is done about it, I still miles.

 

And again from the ocean, we got a drop of foam,

Interfering with the blue sea, you could probably be first.

 

I remain miles, a little more I'll be there,

And the solution in the sand surf, and even there, I will not forget,

As I was flying under the will of the wind, my friends hurried to the back,

Towards a foreign country, and we were just like brothers.

 

 

 

Son Marine engineer and avid boater, grandson of the famous artist-seascape Henry Dawson (1811-1878 gg.), The future legendary artist, seascape Montague Dawson was born in London in 1895 .. Most of his childhood was spent on the coast of Southampton. Paintings on the walls of his grandfather, father yacht hobbies, "sea" atmosphere of the house are filled by the wind sail on the seashore, horns and whistles ships - all this could not contribute to his interest in the sea and the ships. This was the era when steam is almost finished with the displacement of the sails of ocean space, and any appearance or Clipper Windjammer before the eyes of the young Montague aroused in him a feeling of sadness for the passing era, yet awakened in him the romance, and the genes deda- artist accustomed to observation that later our hero is very handy.