The painter
I
The sea,
the stormy sea.
The storm,
an electric storm.
The wind,
the strong wind.
I do not mind all
of those things.
It is not what I see.
I took my brushing tools
and a new reality is...
painted
on a piece of cloth.
A calmed sea
with a boat on it,
two lovers contemplating
its inmensity
under the singing
of the sea gulls...
with a soft,
warm breeze...
II
A tree,
a lonely old tree
close to die
in a middle of a desert....
How can it be?
I do not mind,
it is not what I see.
I see a young tree
full of leaves and singing birds
children playing
in its shadow,
close to two appasonate lovers
close to the students
learning their latest lessons...
of life.
III
A jungle of asphalt,
a jungle of life insteed
that is what I see.
I capture my reality
in a moment of time,
painted wherever i can;
free spirit in a free body
free to change real thing
for another....
That is what I am
that is what I share
with you.....
my own world.....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
nice symbolistic descriptive poem, well written, lovely to read..............10+++