The greatest painter in the world is pain;
Who suffers not, implores and prays in vain;
The human being, the eternal bee,
In fragments of the fragrance tries to see;
Your soul is honey, you the honeycomb;
And for the spirit are you not the tomb?
But in the crowd you crave and cry for creed,
The resurrection is your only deed.
The trial of your life is only trail
Of the Divinity, that says: you sail
Are of the ship, that is your shape, you are
From bliss in blight and blindness not so far;
So with your muscle, with brain and with your nerve
Your task remains: to hear, to Her to serve.
Without the prayer are you not the prey
Of crawling rage that will you lead astray?
But not in vain upon your fate you trod;
At first conceal you, then reveal you God.
1995.
The greatest painter
© Copyright: Владимир Микушевич, 2013
Свидетельство о публикации №113010305790
Свидетельство о публикации №113010305790
Рецензии
I completely agree with the first line.
Maybe, from bliss TO blight?
Thank you.
Николай Старорусский 05.01.2013 11:25 • Заявить о нарушении
Maybe, from bliss TO blight?
Thank you.
Николай Старорусский 05.01.2013 11:25 • Заявить о нарушении
The word says, what it says, and nothing more, and above it is Nothing.
Владимир Микушевич 05.01.2013 23:00 Заявить о нарушении
Владимир Микушевич 05.01.2013 23:00 Заявить о нарушении
I had certainly no intention to improve, but a misprint is always possible.
Николай Старорусский 05.01.2013 23:41 Заявить о нарушении
Николай Старорусский 05.01.2013 23:41 Заявить о нарушении
