He sat on his chair everyday,
And counted the days as they went by.
Even counting seconds, he would try.
He sat on his car chair everyday,
And counted the miles going by.
Even counting miles, he would try.
He sat at his writing table chair,
And in the unfurling,
Of a thousand page book.
Even counting pages, we would try.
And in the thousand pages,
Reading in his rocking chair,
He read the story of his life.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem