Miró, Miró, on the wall,
who's the fairest of them all?
In all the land though there are lots
who're fair, your lines connecting dots
declare the deepest mystery,
and when the rest are history,
Picasso, Balthus, even Dali,
you'll triumph at the grand finale,
a man with many parts to parse;
your canvases are dense but sparse,
and as your image is reflected
we feel our own is there inspected,
just like a mirror on the wall,
excluding none, reflecting all.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
love miro, love you poem.