Who is more beautiful ?

Dawn says to dusk, I have a question to ask

Who is more beautiful; you or me?

To the painter, let us ask and see.

Painter, confused, scratches his head

With a hesitant voice, at last said,

Bathing in colours for days agleam,

My brushes painted you Dawn, my dream.

Then I worked hours to make it true

in the evening as I sat with a cup of brew

My brushes bathed in the joyfulness of me

Then dipping in colours they painted thee.

Go, if you wish, to the poet with your query

He might have for you, a better answer dearie.

Biting his broken pencil, the clumsy poet said,

Difficult to answer your question, I am afraid.

I soaked my words with love, in the fallen dew

Tossing in my own nectar, Dawn, I created you.

When my words, echoed from the silent blue,

I rearranged again with love, Dusk, to shape you.

“Who is beautiful?” Dawn asked again and again,

The question resounded in the hills and mountains.

Dusk, suddenly says, " Let us go to the Sun, dear

I am sure, he will have an appropriate answer."

"Preface of every new sun, Dawn, you are my inception."

"I conclude in you to a new me; Dusk, you are my interpretation."

The question, still resounds over the mountains, in the sea;

Dawn still asks, " Dusk, who is more beautiful, you or me?