Have you ever been in love?
she sings the gentlest song
the same could be said of our story
the painters were all mystics and they fled
we drowned the poets in their sleep
doesn’t it tire you, the rat race?
packing lives into one glass case
we, who revere the moon.
How does it sound [back home] in the original language?
do they remember my name?
most people lose themselves in galleries
where the paintings are flawless and the soul obscure
what of the painter who lives in obscurity
designing a temple that remains invisible
until the moment he is forced to flee?