The Canvas existing as Existence
The painter paints it with colours
Colouring the names and forms
and their abstract appearance...
Her artistry itself is excellence...
The brush in its swift pace
Covers it with hues of
exuberance and sufferance...
but the coloured Canvas still
remain a Canvas
with an unchanging essence.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem