There is no tomorrow, don't lie to me,
No there really is,
Never, it's just an abstraction,
Present is ever present, can't you see?
So what! I don't mind waiting for it frequently,
The way the seeds linger to meet the sunlight,
There you go, an idealist!
I'm proud to be so, honestly.
Don't talk like Beckett's Estragon,
I would stand by my point, even if I am alone.
-'Tomorrow' always becomes 'today'.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem