I'm not a poet,
But once a poet touched my heart with words,
And the traces of his words are my new vessels,
In which my blood floats like it has never floated.
I'm not a painter,
But once a painter touched my eyes with colors,
&I had the rainbow, with no light or rain drops,
In the eyes of my head, in the eyes of my heart.
I'm not a musician,
But my ears wear once touched with a rich tune,
With the pro hands of a player, the delicate fingers,
And the pleasant rhyme running among his lips.

I'm not an artist,
But a poet's verse still echoes in my mind,
And a painter's painting still reflects in my eyes,
And a musician's piece of music sings in my ears,

How could I not be an artist,
With so much art in my heart,
With so much masterwork in my soul,
How could I not live with so much life.

Siryoc ( Zeinab Mahsa )

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/i-m-not-an-artist/