I held an egg, then realized,
how fragile life must be.
To see the life of a baby chick,
taken away so easily.
Here it is in my hand,
a simple crack away.
A baby chick, could have been sitting
here this sunny July day.
Oh well, back to breakfast.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Pfft Ha Ha Ha! and hear I thought this was going to be an overtly sentimental work, about the meaning of life, turns out its all just breakfast! I love it when a writer is able to lure you down one track, then hit you with a punch line. Deliciously delightful