Da Vinchi’s Painted Laugh Poem by O I

The picture of the man in the painting
Loenardo’s laughing man
He has been hysterical for one and half century
Wonder what has been so funny?
Could he be mocking our faces, this chubby butcher?
Or the amusement we show at his laughter
Making us double doubt his sanity
Perfected by Da Vinchi’s paint stained hands with peak of dexterity
Who, like circus, skillfully balance tears
At the brim of his ringed eyes
Without streaming down the lines of his timed countenance

We have gazed from age to age not knowing better
Wondering still, the cause of this invaluable laughter
Or, whether to mock our talent far below par?
By a simpleton’s face, show a hand of genius
Or by genuine humility, by unaesthetic muse
Seek to conceal his real self
The first born of a goddess in flesh