What would I do with the perfect man?
Well, first I would make him understand
That in me he had met his match
And that in me he would find some relief.
Were he as handsome as Hercules
I would ask him to write me poetry.
Were he as wise as Socrates
I would expect him to be domestic.
Were he rich as a king,
I would ask to see his compassion.
Were he as pious as a saint,
I would challenge him to make me laugh.
For in the end, we are all flawed,
But our pride hides our own failings
Behind our personal claims to greatness
And we see only what we believe we project best.
A handsome man need not worry if he is clever.
The comic knows he can get by on his lines.
The rich man knows he can be as ugly as sin
And the young man knows the world is his.
But any human being taken as a whole
Is a grab bag of treasures and trolls.
And if we can tease out the weaknesses,
We lighten the load a prideful man carries.
Because when we topple the pedestal he stands on,
We remind him that, in fact, he is just another man
Searching for a woman who will be his companion
Without demanding that he always be – perfect.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem