memories of the colors
Von: airton sobreira
A large white canvas in front of my eyes
So close to the abysm my spirit goes out
Flying over clouds of imagination,
Colors of pure sentiment touch my soul.
Over deep and invisible sky I die.
Why should I to be alive for one century ?
If in one simple moment I can feel the eternity
of the colors dropping on a canvas,
Red ink river flows from the vein to the hands.
Vanish all the form of the world,
To be reborn in colors,only in your eyes.
So close to the abysm my spirit goes out
Flying over clouds of imagination,
Colors of pure sentiment touch my soul.
Over deep and invisible sky I die.
Why should I to be alive for one century ?
If in one simple moment I can feel the eternity
of the colors dropping on a canvas,
Red ink river flows from the vein to the hands.
Vanish all the form of the world,
To be reborn in colors,only in your eyes.
Stichwörter:
color art poem abstract texture
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