Is a headache, is a charm, is the dunking
of a donut into some very fine tea. And
yet I must say to my Master I am lost.
Like a lizard, you've left skin behind?
Is that what all this is? Where then
should I go, and how do I return?
The translator scratches his head.
'I simply can't figure this out,'
he says. Meaninglessness
is the bane of his work.
But I have kept him