The Painting Poem by Kapali Kaali
The Painting
I am that village boy
On a painting
Feeling proud
As the painter puts colours
Always busy he is
With his brush
Sometimes black
Sometimes red
Sometimes grey
Many more colours
He has
Not at all tired
He sits and touches up
The exterior and the interior
What a great artist he is
I admire
The skills he has
The balance he maintains
In such a huge canvas
Is admirable
I am dumbstruck.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/6/2024 2:07:20 AM # 1.0.0.1119
