Are there more sand in all the seas
than stars in the known galaxies,
this riddle has filled many fantasies
from the dark to the not dark ages.
one night, I looked up to heaven
where the night gleamers convene,
I counted but their chrismas-like glint
wearied my eyes I could hardly squint.
next day I went to the sea strand
so determined to count the sand,
the wind blew a grit into my eyes,
rubbed them sore until I got ugly sties.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem