i like the concept of God
perfection in imperfection
a round round ball no artist
could paint without making lesser round
i like the
perpetual Driver in me
perfection seeker amid imperfections
a spirit perpetually
desiring to do beter
today than yesterday
to be closer one's goal -
a round round ball no artist could do justice to
i like the concept of the homo sapiens
a transient world cruising through eternal
rising and falling, falling and rising
beside a round round ball no artist could do
without making lesser round
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem