The shape of eggs, elliptical
Considered more aspherical
Has me quite astounded
That nature formed them almost rounded
She never gave it thought
She was rounding eggs for naught
It was nature’s losing gamble
‘Cause many eggs…end up scrambled
But most of her other shape decisions
Have no need for shape revisions
Like the shaping of a flower’s petal
Nature rates a prized gold medal
So over-all, she so perfect-ly
Shaped our world so natural-ly
Eggs, her one exception
Even when scrambled to perfection
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem