Black Graphite hides itself im wood pencils
And in narrow sharpeners spills.
The black maid serves society' hands
Auseful device of working bands.
But Diamond crowns Honour's high head
Dream of eyes open or in bed.
Light is its food, light its soul
With light it plays a wonderful role.
Both seem to have no relation
But their close link disturbs reason.
Of one carbon, they are two forms
But externally have different norms.
The difference is only of thought
That has led them to opposite lot.
If graphite changes its arrangement
It can also become resplendent.
Man's thoughts make him diamond or graphite
In his mind can exist day or night.
Try to turn graphite to diamond
Try to learn the difference fecund.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem