Round and around in circles
that seem to go nowhere,
gives me the feeling I must move along
for there is no time to spare.
If I were moving in a straight line
wherever it was I could define.
But with a circle there's no end in sight.
And so I find it asinine
to reach for a certain point of light.
For my life is a circle and so is yours
and all that we do we've done before.
For a circle continues and never stops
and the end is how we've begun.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem