<center>
The canvas upon
Which Sunsets are drawn
The palette that proffers
The hues…
The stroke of the brush
‘Pon the edge of the earth
The purples, the crimsons
The blues..
The portrait that’s painted
Each day at dusk
At times displays
the husk of a day…
T'was vibrant, alive, roseate
Once so bright and sunny...
As if God and Angels
Have conspired to create
A hue hallowed and new
The colour of blood
…mixed with honey…
</center>
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A delightful poem I enjoyed reading. Thanks for sharing.