i am not an artist
i am not interested either
but i am painting
since i got senses
i don't have canvasses
neither do oil dipped brushes
i have only my dreams
with open eyes towards this world
i have never seen
what i am painting
the only clue i got
it's her presence that i always felt
like her absence
that i always repent
a different kind of warmth
i have found savin' me in this cold world
don't know why?
it seems to appearing
on a window next lane
yes the one with clear glass pane
baby pink color top
tickeled with her blessed smile
and all her hair'
like caring the soothing face from scorch
i painted every mood
on that window
in almost every season
with my dreams, so obvious
it's almost complete now
i just wanna' give a name
what should i call my painting
dream, love, attraction, heart, all looks unreal
i called it breath
cause' i have forgot to breathe
long since i have painted it
tomorrow it is going to gallery for presentation
see! i painted it
and someone will appreciate
and for some dollars
my breath will go.....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very good imagery and mellowed tone. But in the second half; the tempo dulled a bit and the ending should have been made even more effective; having started so wonderfully well. However I liked it for its sheer beauty and give u 10