We know all useless,
Money, power, position,
Yet we are busy in
Our own hunger game.
We know our name,
And it is false.
Riddle, time, mythology,
Nothing but acts of spoiling.
We know what we are doing,
Eating, sitting, sleeping,
And yet, getting nothing.
We know we are beyond our control,
And we are far from the truth,
And yet, we are searching not for nothing, though.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem