noise has become
the subject of his painting
lots of colors in chaos
furiously the red blots
invade the canvass with
the black streaks as
ally
drops of dark blue and
a little softness with mint greens
strokes of ash gray
and the violence of strong oranges
which ignited fire
to the minds of the viewer
it is a picture of pressure
that in a little while you
can even hear the explosion
or the passage of
a cyclone
he looks at it
calmly like an early morning
sea
as he remembers the seagulls
and the anchored boats at the pier.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem