I was his French girl and he was my gypsy, and that was all we wanted, for ever.
We began to discover mystical places, my passion I had transmitted to him.
Above all we were already on our journey, on the chariot of fire, pulled by dogs this time. We were already far away on the chariot of love, sensuality, beauty and gold.
It ended that I left the farm and went on my own to the other side of the country. I found a little house on a hill with an evocative name “Hill of Peace”.
As it happens when one is in love, my gypsy also moved, he left the farm and came to be with me.
It was at the end of the world, even the plow didn’t come to clean the streets, that season we could purify under a blanket of one meter high snow.