(I)
Huge waves and foams
Splash across the sea shore;
My spirit restless roams
For knowledge much more.
Knowledge of the Arts,
Of things that are fine,
To gather their fragments and parts
That they be eternally mine.
To be drenched with love,
For desire to learn
And thirst, which is above
Quenching. And to burn,
And alight my heart,
Aflame with the knowledge of Art.
(II)
I sometimes wonder, if
The canvass and the brush
Would give more contentment,
Than the holding of the pen.
My pen moves and before I know,
I have filled with words
The blank leaves of paper.
Poured out my soul.
And felt at heart ‘Peace’.
And yet, this yearning
To represent in colour
The depths of my soul,
To create with paint and palette
Things unknown to me.
At times when I do attempt,
And unfold myself to Art,
I find, that before I put away
The canvass, paint and oil,
My pen has leaped and moved
And expressed in words
What it so wishes to do
In colour, tone and form.
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