I sometimes wonder how those who
don’t paint, compose or write,
can manage to evade the hue
and cry of those who flaunt the flight
from sanity. Life’s only great if
it’s decomposed by pen or paint
or music, that remove its taint:
that’s why I’m artfully creative.
Written at Boston’s Logan Airport and inspired by a 1943 photograph of Graham Greene exhibited at the Boston Publiuc Library in an exhibition of the photos of Yousuf Karsh. Greene told Karsh: “I wonder how all those who do not write, compose or paint can manage to escape the madness which is inherent in the human condition.”
11/26/08
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem