Perhaps the reason why plants are green
Does not begin with chlorophyll,
Nor with light physics,
Nor with the purpose of
Providing camouflage for others,
But having the core reason of
Not letting anyone know
How blue they really are.
Perhaps the reason why our imagination
Can comprehend infinity
But cannot count it
Is not because we are incapable,
Nor is it because of non-permission,
But simply because our minds know
That counting Alpha and Omega
Is a waste of time.
Perhaps the reason why an artist writes
Is not because he wishes to express,
Nor to impress,
Nor to prove anything
Nor to record something outstanding,
Nor to try interacting with a question,
But to create an action of imaginary revolution
Against the limits of language.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Interesting poem. Thanks for sharing Danielle