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ArtistAn old French woman standing alone in a quiet small-town street, wearing a slightly outdated elegant coat and a small hat decorated with bright red cherries. She stands with dignity and fragility, wrinkled face, proud posture despite age and solitude. Subtle poetic melancholy, gentle southern France atmosphere, late afternoon soft warm light. Background with lightly suggested buildings and a few blurred indifferent passersby. Focus on the woman and the cherries on her hat as a vivid emotional detail. Very diluted watercolor, light transparent washes, dirty expressive ink lines, imperfect contours, pigments softly bleeding into textured fine art paper, minimalistic composition, nostalgic and tender mood, poetic realism.
Michel Sardou - La vieille
She has cherries on her hat, the old woman
She makes herself believe that it's summer
In the sun we feel reassured
It seems that the lady with the scythe
It's winter that she does her job
It's not that she cares so much about life
But old people have quirks
He likes his armchair and his bed
Even if the world ends here
Her head is like a cupboard, the old woman
And tidy memories
Like his sheets his pillowcases
Her very first dance card
When waltzing was bad
A small piece of white veil
From the time when we married as children
From his late hero, a war cross
From the penultimate war
She has cherries on her hat, the old woman
She makes herself believe that it's summer
She's no longer part of time
She's a hundred years old, she's a thousand years old
It's folded, it's wrinkled
Like a diary of times gone by
She has her family in photos, the old
On the buffet they are in rows
And it smiles with all its teeth
There are children's grandchildren
And the children of the little children
There are those who would come many times
But who doesn't have a car for that
Those who don't have time who don't live there
Then there are the others who don't think about it
She has cherries on her hat, the old woman
She wants to make herself believe that it's summer
She has cherries on her hat, the old woman
She makes herself believe that it's summer
