I wanted to draw a portrait of mine,
on the canvas called life.
beautiful, mystic yet attractive.
I started adding on colours
of love, of desire, of hope,
even of envy.
looking at the mirror
and then the canvas
giving the best possible pose
I painted...
when I finished.....oh
it was not me!
nothing was there..
except a paper of overlapping colours
laughing at me for my lack of skill....
so, I started removing layers one by one
I went on and on....
till I found the blank canvas once again
start again I told myself!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem