A Brushstrokes Of Paint
A brushstrokes of paint is what
created you from a blankcanvass,
A vIsion from the dimming nights
as the whorls of lonelines,
confronts a lonely man with his wife,
how a painters dream
Recreates theman, woman,
You who wants as many daughters
as possible as the sons,
you want on your shore of associations,
How a male gander,
without preference and heaven's grace,
the inevitable man wrore his badge
of manhood,
He proclaim birth of himself
as with his appendages,
Legacies
as badge of being a good father,
A man with many daughters,
and sons for the surviving race,
and his place in the sun.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem