Let's say two painters agree 
to paint on the same canvas, 
gaze at their paint store - 
some new (many old)some
paints dried out; 
many brushes brittle, ragged.
What paint should they use 
on the tableau before them? 
what kind of picture shall it be?
Can they agree on who 
gets what part of the canvas? 
Can they sort out how they 
should lay down the paint?
Perhaps one alone
has a good white paint.
Perhaps the other alone 
has a great onyx.
Do they agree to share 
paint; share everything?
Are they critical of what 
They are putting together?
What they are working on? 
 
Do they hold back anything? 
wait - see in what manner 
the picture will materialize?
Or do they just splatter 
paint all over canvas; 
in rapture with the thrill 
of creating, creating
moved onward by the
unknown.... trembling.                
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
 
                    