Alfie had his portrait done
for all the world to marvel on.
The wondrous image seems so real
that men who pass it claim to feel
the gaze of it into them burn:
uneasily admit the eyes of it
seem to follow, follow them
clean across the room.
Homage to the artist! To his
tints and wondrous artifice
in whose work we face
an undisputed case
of Art imitating life.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem