Fingers at work on the guitar,
Thinks up the musician
In quest of notes and tones
To create immortal rendition.
The painter has sunk deep
The bristles of vision
To pull out new colors
Of the progressive Creation.
Rapt are they in their work,
The rest in oblivion;
Through their work,
They do bring whole revolution.
Inspire do they, charm do they,
With their perfection,
For, their work is given
In the interest of civilization.
Apostles are they, they bring
Transformation;
The world is at the feet
Of these votaries of PERFECTION.
-- N P SAMAL
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