when you run in a circle
you arrive at nowhere
you pass by the same
lane over and over again
so to kill this monotony
you build your own set of
fences and walls with the
end that even if you pass
on the same lane over and
over again somehow the
walls may create the
illusion of a border the fence
an illusion of height so
that you may then claim
that you have hurdled an
obstruction passed a
hard test survived a
certain difficult trial
which you have
freely created yourself
you think you can
deceive the circle?
sorry but
this circle will always
remain as a circle even
if the walls reach the heavens
even if the fences shut you
away from the neighbors
who live on the same
lane with you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem