The pink-blue sky
With the grey-blue buildings
And windows all in pink
With the jet-streams flying
The pink becomes blue,
Becomes grey,
While our eye forms abstract designs
In the cold.
And the charcoal streets
With their white-blue lamps
To cancel out
The god-given darkness.
And finally, to the stillness of the night
We close our eyes
And dream of other worlds.
Yes, very mujch a painting: and with the rhythms the 'blue-pink-grey-charcoal' create wound up so restfully in the end.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
An impression of an Artist............a painter. Good job Fred!