Once upon a time
There lived a number of buttons
Harmoniously
In my shirts
Their passionate love
And the consequent embraces
With the holes
Made my nakedness a reality
My nakedness is my life
My purity
One fine morning
The holes began to grow
More than the need of the button
They broke up.
I often witnessed
Their reluctance to be one again
This is the philosophy of the buttons
Whose life was a hole
A hole is
Emptiness
Nothingness
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem