a small child,
sitting on the stoop,
cracking walnuts with a hammer.
i often feel this way
when i try to comprehend
god, infinity, and the meaning of life.
scientific thrusts
only leave more questions.
and philosophy turns
wine into water!
i can still taste the walnuts,
perhaps that's enough!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem