An artist before his canvas sat
Considering the beginning, and yet
How to embrace the art,
Of melding, canvas, brush and pot.
Dipping his brush and with a stroke so fine,
He began to construct what was in his mind.
It mattered not the color of his choice
For in a single dimension, all was lost.
Again he took the brush in hand
For now in mind, a simple plan.
Turning the brush to creat a stroke so bold
He added color in a radiant dimension to behold.
Alas, on canvas, no matter what
The bold, nor simple did not stand out.
Until a third dimension came into play
For depth, light and shadows held the day.
Finished - He stood from afar to see what he had wrought.
His efforts had not come to naught.
There was beauty in what he saw,
Yet another dimension held him in awe.
Oh Wow, Oh Wow, Oh Wow, -
s
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nice poem, the artist is that promotes the satisfaction of the spirit, freely.