Cutting to core, to beauty's barest bone,
Chipping and chopping does work a sculptor,
Probing in passion a huge chunk of stone,
Lost in deep search he's a fine creator.
A poet whilst chases gossamer thoughts,
Envisioning how his muse might well look,
Linking up like a child his dotted dots,
None is cooking from a recipe book.
The sculptor's strokes never in silence speak,
The poet's words whilst take off on their wings,
And metered when rhythm from chaos seek,
The readers whilst bring in valued meanings.
Oft yet, both struggle on a thankless day,
And maiden muse when moans: O there's no way!
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Sonnets | 01.07.14 |
The sculptor's strokes never in silence speak, The poet's words whilst take off on their wings, ...... touching expression with great outlook. The aims and objects of poet and sculptor are the same but one does in silent mood where as the other does with sound. A brilliant poem is shared amazingly.A10
The sculptor's strokes never in silence speak/The poet's words whilst take off on their wings....pragmatic expression sir! The two are different and distinct by varied divine traits endowed to them by the almighty God! A wonderful poem...10
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The sculptor and the poet...both are creators in their respective fields of art...I feel, the sculpture speaks in silence and the poets work speaks loud...both are read, reviewed and talked about...an interesting write with beautiful expression
Yes, a sculptor chips off the unwanted chunk. The poet also has to remove unnecessary words, the dross, so that the barest of the poetic lines emerge. Thanks for your appreciation.