Arabian horses, as well as Andalusian, his whole appearance make freeze in place and forget about breathing. The author of these images, Wojtek Kvyatovski just having fun on these incomparable animals. Wojtek - was born in 1954 in Warsaw, graduated from the University of Technology. But the main passion of his life were they, these fantastic creatures.
Being passionate, Kvyatovski published many books on breeding of horses. Books are published all over the world, and the author advises many owners of pedigree horses. Over time, the Pole became interested in photography, and the fruits of his new hobby, we can observe. Here they are, Arabian horses in all its glory!
With such speed and agility of these magnificent horses can hardly be called pets. Photos Polish photographers: Wojtek Kwiatkowski and Ronceval.
Songs roads flourish in the soul, As cornflowers bloom in the Rye. Glancing at the peace between the horse's ears, What did you see, my friend, tell me! In hoofbeats dawn was breaking - In hoofbeats burns sunset. Shadow gliding through the tall grass, Driving west wind their crazy, Chases vosled departing day, And swim wave after wave Juicy grass on his belly horse. In the saddle creaking began in January, In creaking saddle ends in May. Spinning in dance, similar to the waltz, World, for some reason it feels like paradise. Coin purse filled with strange - Songs roads so crazy dream. Glancing at the peace between the horse's ears, Do not want to look just like that. House to exchange for a flap of blue, You do not come back to the table and fire. All forbs their pantries Steppe lines the horse's feet ... (From "Horses of St. Petersburg")
Horses, horses - you are a fairy tale and song. To love you can not explain. Like a child some unearthly I see you in the night in the meadow. I remember how strigunkom foal Touched the credibility of the hand, And since then softly, then loudly All calls and calling in the distance. And where would we dream or wore Before reaching new planets We will measure both yours force Irrepressible force missiles. But by what we measure the force The warmth that you give birth? That aspiration beautiful believe In a quiet noise of oak and grass? What a wonderful fusion with nature, What is left in the night in the meadow? Horses, horses - you are a fairy tale and the song! To love you can not explain ...
I know somewhere there is a land Where we are waiting for the dead horses. There forever green field And no clouds on the horizon. Probably everyone out there waiting Horse innermost dreams - Someone - a modest firefly, Someone - purebred Wanted. There are old riders of all newly Galloping horses carry these. That bell and Petrov, Here Uncle Yasha on a Budget. Oh, if there is paradise on earth, There spring, grass and will. Yes, horseman, my brother, horseman, know this: There waiting for us dead horses.