All the colors come from the sun. And it does not have
Any particular color, it contains them all.
The whole Earth is like a poem
Well the sun above represents the artist.
Whoever wants to paint the very gated world
Let him never look straight up at the sun
Or she will lose the memory of things he has seen.
Only burning tears will stay in his eyes.
Let him kneel down, lower his face to the grass,
And look at light reflected by the ground.
There he will find everything we have lost:
The stars and the roses, The dusks in the dawns.
Czeslaw Milosz, 1943