When offered a juicy Pear
We do not ever care
To question its grotesque shape
Nor at its seed-stricken core gape
But greedily gobble up our share
But on being given Life we ask
Why am I here; what is my task?
Why this suffering, why so much sorrow?
Will the world end the day-after-tomorrow?
Is this all real, or is it a mask?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem