Ode To Frans*

What hath made thy brush
Tell me, Frans,
That you doth create
Such a marvellous canvas, Great,

Which imagining had brought You
To think of Joseph, (as i view,
Ignorant of Thy awesome hands,)
Holding the long tong, as if Goldsmith,
Taking a loving look, as He doth took,
Little Babe, to Mother Of His,
O, How the child finds Bliss,
Going to Mary, the Blessed forever kind,
What, made You, Frans, to hold in thy mind
Such a picture, so Holy , of A Family, Divine,

What worked in thy eyes, to see the Child
With His mother, as Lapped up, never defiled,
What inspired You, Floris, tell upon us,
Through thy paintings how You centuries passed,
What eulogy can be left to say to praise
Thy eternal , thy nights of toils, thy happy days,

Should i then, break out, recalling,
What Dominucus
Said , erupting, spontaneous,
Seeing thy work of art,
"Then I would call out: Yield
Painters from whichever country you hail,
Whether you were born in olden
Days or present days..."

Should i sing for You, Floris,
A song, if my little heart allow me,
Singing thy praise for eternity.

{* Note : a humble tribute from me, to the Great Painter Frans Floris, (1517-1570), in Antwerp, who had painted the painting attached, titled "Holy Family".
#Dominicus: Dominucus Lampsonius(1532-1599), who praised the painting of Frans Floris (Frans de Vriendt)
Saying " Had You Painter Floris, been as fully devoted to Art...present days" As quoted in the poem itself, in fragment, as an extract.}