Writing poetry is like painting feelings freely upon a white canvass longing for your array of colours to caress and mould its bare surface with your own form.
Translating poetry is like sweating with skills upon the shapes of a sculpture you would want to render in tune with the original muse.
I paint my soul on the canvass of poetry – I am a scarce sculptor of foreign meanings.
(Soar, May 2011. No liability over the picture. Picture credits: Heron Dance, http://www.herondance.org/)