As a painter my friend spent his whole life,
On the drawing table sitting and looking.
As an artist my friend lost his time,
In the art tunnel looking for exists.
How easy to paint black on white, but
How difficult to paint white on black.
Bad influence is easy to follow.
Good influence is hard to accept.
Those were the last words of his.
Thus, advised me not to go through that door.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I remain grey on the matters of art so thanks for contributing to my knowledge base...