The methods of the academician,
Proper to his transparent subjects,
Display opacities proudly,
Not unlike the dainty surgery reserved
For dead fish at dinner.
These patient skills may yet
Build utopian symmetries,
Where men are orderly functions,
Like a+b = c-d.
I doubt it, though,
It would be dystopia,
Where we don't exist
As you and I.
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I would like to translate this poem