I fear that i will always,
Be a lonely number,
Like root three,
A three is always thats,
Good and right,
Why must my three,
Keep out of sight.
Beneath a vicious square root sign?
I wish instead i were a nine,
For nine could thwart,
This evil trick,
With just quick arithmetic, I know i will never see the sun,
As a whole number one.
Such is my reality,
A sad irrationality,
When, hark, just what is this i see?
Another square root of three,
Has quietly come waltzing by,
Together now we multiply,
To form a number we prefer,
Rejoicing as an integer,
We break free from our mortal bonds.
And with a wave of magic wands,
Our square roots signs become unglued,
And love for me has been renewed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem