Much longer stays Art than an Artist’s life,
Whose earthly work is almost eternal!
His sculptures/ monuments though raised ’midst strife,
Can make any mortal, quite immortal.
The year’s consumed in the wake of an art,
His indomitable spirit and patience,
Can him enormous wealth on earth impart,
Or reward him with glory that is dense.
Each stone erected crumbles to powder;
Every painting can’t withstand time’s weather;
Inscriptions may be forgotten, brother;
But Art will live on and on much longer!
Oh, what hands made an Artist’s hands and brain!
He’s the Master Artist who brings the Rain.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I really enjoyed it(: