Perfection
is out of the question.
The question is
to have a decision.
To Decide
is for the mind
to get satisfied.
No man is impeccable
to be able
for desires he feel
to be full.
With limit
one can fit
in the world
he owned.
The owner
of the world
is the mind,
and the mind
decide
the limit
to fit.
For satisfaction
I reaction
with limitation
must I be aware
to live in fair,
and dare
to decide
with the mind
the place to belong
for much as long.
No perfection
but confession
in duration
is satisfaction.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
No perfection but confession. good thought and write. thanks.