Ode On a Painting
"Painting is silent poetry and poetry is painting that speaks" _ Greek philosopher, Plutarch
O hearts that breathe with nature breath!
O eyes that dipped in heaven's wine!
O souls in world of pain who seeth?
With Soul of world art intertwine?
O wondrous piece of world of art!
Which painter gave thee lasting breath ?
Thou wilt live there till final day!
So far from hands of Callous Death?
O what a scene of mirth and Glee!
As worship in a temple saints
A wondrous sight, a wondrous sight!
That one in world can ever paint!
A host of blooms by shadow _box
And tossed they heads by rustic fence;
As if this scented world to cross :
The phantoms came from far off manse
Red and green therest I saw!
And betwixt were the shadows all:
With days of yore they interwined
They stood in rows by nature's wall:
No wind of world can snatch thy hue
Thou can't be marred by hands of time
Thou art a gift from Lord of world
O blooms thou breath in rhyme of mine
O white and pink as angels wings
Thou art the eyes of Nature's maid
No mortal hand can ever pluck
No one can garnish thee in braid
From leaves of books of bygone time
By hand of chance therest thou come
On mat of grass thou write a rhyme
With quills that dipped in heaven's rum
I'll bring for thee moon of sky
So that thou it in heart can keep
There sing for thee all fowls that fly
From orchard bowers fairies peep
A foggy mist, a foggy mist!
By hazy window pane I saw!
A world of bliss there walked betwixt
It heaves and breathes by nature law!
I saw the shades of far off world!
And herds of sheep in nature's yard,
And phantoms on the ways so curled;
I pined for them so them I called !
O hazy shadows! Who art thou?
Gazing at me by window pane?
Art thou the souls of forlorn wood?
Who knock at doors of mind in vain?
In rills and falls in world of rhyme
My wayward heart forgot the way!
O stop thou hands of clock of time!
O may therest sometime I stay
O silent blooms thou wilt sing songs!
For souls distressed, in times to come
While mortal races come and go
Thou wilt remain O soul winsome
O world of bliss, therest I wish!
My breathes with thine may intertwine
In heart of thine O happy blooms!
Thou spare a room for grave of mine
From world of maddening men so far;
There is a world in magic land
A wondrous world 'of days of yore'
Farthest from present burning sand
A beauteous world, a beauteous world!
In world of painting here it breathes;
So beauteous than the world of men
In painful world who bleed and seeth
O sailors sing from far off sea!
Some notes for weary desert bands
Who can not see the mirth and Glee
That I hath seen in painting land
I'll purchase for aching hearts
Some holy breathes from nature's shop
While sun on woodland ways hath set
And moon and stars from sky they pop
Copyright © Sabahat Batool | Year Posted 2023
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