On Pieter Breugel's celebration of life*

The ploughman let on doing
What he was supposed to do,
Through the land, fertile ground ploughing,
And the angler was too not observing
He was busy too fish in his hook finding,
Only that the birds and the bees were amazed
How can a man from sky to them so dazed,
The ship there on the Calm sea sailed
Her oars on the water so by hands of sailors held,
The sea looked green and blue as it should
The birds few in the sky there flew,
Carried so by Pieter's colors and hue,

Old masters are they so called,
Who thus on painted works found no fault
In Icarus neither, nor in Dedalus' worries,
How the breeze,  him,  over the hills carried,

Human is such a life to be owned and put
Forward forever by poems so written and understood,
Human , is such a life to be painted against the wide
Spectrum of the oceans and the seas and the magnanimous skies.

(*Note: upon a painting loosely based as attached, done by Pieter Bruegel, and also inspired by W.H.Auden's poem on the said painting titled "Musee des beaux arts".)


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