The apple dropped,
On my apple pie.
I jumped and wondered why.
This apple liked to be,
A part of it's own kind,
And not hanging from a tree.
A person joined,
One of it's own kind.
That was good,
But up to a point.
He also mixed and mingled,
With all others,
So he was the apple of my eye.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem