On canvas on easel as tall as steel towers,
He told me what spring his inspiration flows,
The vivid flora that the nomad bestows,
He watched nature to learn how to fight,
How to dodge a Katana matter not how slight,
His name is a feared legend in the Far East,
The paintings for him are just the very least,
I knew well the man that painted sunflowers,
I met the man that cuts down he who cowers.
***
