Art is that train whistling and clanging as it cuts through the center of town.
Art is that pitcher on the mound delivering a curve ball.
Art is that horse rounding the curve at the racetrack.
Art is that frosting on the roof following a heavy snowstorm.
Art is that leaf circling to the ground.
Art is that cat swatting at a string.
Art is that dog wagging its tail when you come back.
Art is that symphony that sounds like the voice of a lover.
Art is that painting which does to the eye what candy does to the mouth.
Art is that play that makes you laugh, think, or cry, depending on who you are.
Art is that gourmet dish that makes you want nothing more on this earth than a second helping.
Art is that flower that makes you regret you stepped on it.
Art is not that scribbled message in the men's room.
Art is not that commercial sign along the highway.
Art is not that pop-up advertisement on the internet.
Art is not that poem you just read.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem