(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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