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“’My poetry is without end; The more of it you read, The more you realize You have just begun. It is an epic readable in any country, For we all speak numbers. Though speaking one language, In my present form, There are six tongues; Residing in one space, But lying in different directions. Such that the one poem Tells six different stories. In my favorite story, A unique existence doubles itself As it climbs downward: First it is one, then two, then four. In all the tongues, Rhyming units cascade Down the poem’s boundaries, The speakers keeping step In the one rhythm. Like the descent of the ancestors Passing on in an unbroken spiral To make the next generation, This poetry is composed of What has come before; And children can realistically Become more than Either of their parents, But only because their parents Have collectively given their all To become their children. Here the stories of families Such as the Binary family and the Pyramid family Are contained. Multiple religions are herein present: The people of the Addition And the people of the Subtraction Peacefully coexist, and beyond this, Harmoniously interdepend, Opposites though they are; One moving downward While the other moves upward. In these many tongues, All communicate most powerfully Not in smashing brightness, But in silent depth, Singing the Meru-prastaara, The song with numbers for words. Proving that often That which is left unsaid Counts most, And indeed means most. |
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