The picture I painted was pink- plush pink
I forgot even colours had boundaries
It was all glory- no shades of pale
The canvass was shining –no signs of fail
Strokes were gentle-imaginations unreal
cutting across faith the brush was real
even the paint was playing my emotions
inches over inches ecstasy living motions
the heart that pounded once today clicked twice
euphoria they say soaked my soul
it ran into veins-the blood felt shy
what the mind refused eyes caught by
it was weird- yet I loved it
it woke me up from a dream to another
but the life of a dream the only thing I feared
what if I never know, how a dream gets cleared
I forgot where I left my brushes- the thin one
Oh Eros help me find it- I am almost done
Well before its too late, I’ll draw a line red
That if ever again I paint I see dreams yet
I never saw this coming, I thought it was easy
The gentle strokes now seemed heavy- the brush creepy
What I had pictured pink now turned white
It looked as if I could never paint a picture bright
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem