Painting the sky of my world,
I picked out black and white.
Neatly on my palette,
I painted the sky as bright.
I never mixed the two,
because I don't like the color grey.
The color grey does not belong
in the world I see today.
My paintbrush seems
to have had some blue,
mixed in with my white and black,
making a sadder hue.
Now my sky has a horizon of grey
A bluer grey than if I had
just accepted that perhaps
Grey is not a denial of black and white.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem