Cube,
I've told you more than once,
you will never become a ball.

No matter how many // times you blink your eyes,
How many times you change your face,
You can't shed those rigid, // unchanging lines.
Every day you're talking, // never stopping,
With those who seem straight and smart.
Ordinary, righteous,
Don't you realize they // only have one face?

You say you want to change,
Frantically change, // change your face,
Can't you see your six faces —
Fail to show what you truly feel?

What you want to change,
too much, but what you want // to do is too little.
I stand aside, reading books,
What I think hasn't decreased at all.
Your quests swim lost // in my mind's ocean,
Endless words, minimal deeds, // answerless.

You're extremely anxious, // restless doubt, no way to find,
Your faltering faith.
You preach self-sacrifice, // for others to change to triangles.
Shed these rigid confines that bind you, // please,
For you remain,
a lone point trapped // in such cubicle prison,
Forever hesitating, // drowning in thought while starving for action.
What you want to change, // too much, useless.

Lifting your face, I // don't want to see,
It is a triangle.
Why be so eager to sacrifice?
Cube, those strong eternal beliefs of yours,
Why do they become fewer // and fewer as they change?
Where have they gone, to search.
You say you can't communicate with me,
Because of the ball in your eyes.
I can only say,
It’s that you refuse // to see my face clearly,
See the lines at the edges, // blur at night.
Forward and backward, // left and right,
Don’t tell me you // find nothing left —
In the light.