Sometimes people don't reveal they're bores right away;
It takes time sometimes, years even
Of bouncing randomly off one another,
Tentatively probing, courteousness prevailing,
The winds conducive to perfect sailing.
Then one day, the winds turn, and the boat wavers,
Hesitates: to one side, a plunging stream,
To the other, ponds of despond..
Both sides willing to contribute just enough- but not quite enough-
The boat capsizes and fills up with water.
And there it sits, perhaps only inches beneath smiling blue water
And nobody will rescue it, because to do so
Won't solve a thing-
We must remember that courteousness..
Stay boat; for there will be no more sailing..
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem