We Artists provide colour to thought-dreams,
And form to many insubstantial things.
What is, often merges into, what seems.
We can create verses that possess wings.
O poets, sculptors, painters: all who're free
To express yourselves in varying ways,
Keep sailing forth on unfamiliar seas!
May you discover golden shores one day.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem