Picture of the artist and his room
His first masterpiece, the painterly art
invisible, detail photographic
and accident, our newest rhetoric
bravely absent, except that he had to start
somewhere and it was this room that stopped him between women: that's all he owes to chance.
He might be waiting for an ambulance,
a naked woman, or the Seraphim
of God. But he's not. He's going to get up
and paint his room at midnight with himself
in the corner saying, This is myself.
This is the bed. This is the plastic cup.
I am one, I am welcome, like the chair,
the table, any of the objects there.
Leonard Cohen, ''Picture of the artist and his room''
(zbirka pjesama ''The Energy of Slaves'' / ''Snaga robova'')