With a pair of compasses and a ruler
in mathematics almost the impossible is realised.
In mathematical quadrature
the structure of a flame,
even of a rose leave is captured
wherever we want to hang them
as mathematical equations in practical mechanics
where we draw contours as if they are elastic
while we do avoid real impossibilities
and try to fit everything into squares.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem