It started as a bit of grit stuck in an Oyster's craw.
In time, through suffering, bit by bit it became the Pearl you saw.
Translucent pink, a perfect orb, no polishing required,
You alone possess this gem which many have desired.
It cost you dear, this perfect pearl, as the bid grew steadily higher.
You'd have gladly given all you had to possess its inner fire.
Time and suffering produced the Pearl, it is immutable law.
Forget that at your peril for the Pearl would be no more.
The Pearl is not a bauble meant to dazzle others' eyes.
It, like wisdom borne of suffering, is its own reward and prize.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Well done. Your title struck me because I found a pearl once in a can of oysters!