Does a greatness exist,
To remind itself that's what it is?
Or is it what it is because it is convinced...
A greatness has been achieved?
From its perspective.
Although the quality of it,
Has long been diminished...
By those seeking clarity and definition!
And not deluded interpretations,
Fantasized and embellished by desire.
An isolated slice of a whole...
May wish to call itself anything it chooses.
But it can not exist as it is by itself exclusively.
One day it does awaken...
To realize the foolishness of this!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem