I find a solution to all subjects
That discuss and win yourself.
I find him in the dust with legs
And arms of wickedness.
He feels good and crooked,
On a sinking feeling, on a wand
That fetches light and finds solutions.
We wave goodbye, to all cells of thought
That persuade a match with ideas
Since ideas will condemn us,
On a joyous occasion.
My solutions are wide and grabbing,
Upper reality is again in my home.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.