Unassuming, complacent;
Without the need to announce;
The pieces of chalk lie,
on the brown, even table.
Each belonging to a different colour,
Of different lengths,
Having gone through,
Different amounts of friction
against the black, black board.
Some broken,
Having known what it is,
to fall.
Some yet to wear
Take youthful pride
in their flawless texture.
The pieces of couloured chalk.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem