The Path Taken
I owned a fine red tricycle
That I wheeled around in a circle.
My mother had bought it for me
When I was little.
At the time I rode it fast
But alas that time did not last.
I asked my mother for a bicycle
Then I cycled up and down the road.
Everything seemed faster and longer now.
Everything's meaning had changed.
I rode on long roads and short.
I rode on smooth roads and rough.
No matter how I tried new directions
I met imperfections.
So I decided to mend my ways.
I took the Middle Path for the rest of my days.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem