A 17th-century painter, depicts a landscape in Arcadia, a mountainous region of the Peloponnese renowned since antiquity for its gentle way of life. Far from the hustle and bustle of cities and ports, shepherds lead a peaceful and happy existence, in perfect harmony with nature. It's paradise on earth...

In the melancholy evening light, three men and a woman stand around a tomb, examining it carefully. One, using his finger, deciphers a Latin inscription engraved on the tomb: "Et in Arcadia ego".

Often translated as "I am also in Arcadia", this inscription would have death speaking beyond the grave. Like the vanitas, a genre in vogue at the time, this painting invites us to contemplate our mortal condition. Even if life is sweet, even if it fills us with happiness, in Arcadia as elsewhere, death lurks.

Look at the shadow on the shepherd's arm as he deciphers the inscription? It's not exact at all! And yet, doesn't it remind you of something? The shadow of a scythe, the traditional image of death...

The inscription and the painting have given rise to many interpretations. For example, one of the many anagrams that have been used to interpret the inscription is "I! Tego arcana dei", "Va! I possess the secret of God". Others see in the woman a representation of Mary Magdalene who discovers Christ's empty tomb. We could write a "Poussin code", just as there is a "Da Vinci code"...

For some, the painting conceals precious secrets. Abbé Saunière, the priest of Rennes-le-Château in the Aude region, who became mysteriously wealthy, is said to have acquired a copy of the painting. The landscape in the background is said to bear a striking resemblance to that around Rennes-le-Château...

Did you notice that one of the shepherds is showing the shadow of the man deciphering the inscription? This could be an allusion to the invention of art, as recounted by Pliny the Elder in his "Natural History". To preserve the image of her lover, the daughter of the potter Dibutade traces his profile on a wall...following the outline of his shadow. Then her father placed clay on this outline. Thus was born the first bas-relief portrait.

Could this shadow on the tomb be the hope that art can transcend death, forever fix the memory of our loved ones and ease our pain and anguish?