Once upon a time

Once upon a time there was a number

Pure and round like the sun

But alone very much alone

It began to reckon with itself

It divided multiplied itself

It subtracted added itself

And remained always alone

It stopped reckoning with itself

And shut itself up in its round

And sunny purity

Outside were left the fiery

Traces of its reckoning

They began to chase each other through the dark

To divide when they should have multiplied themselves

To subtract when they should have added themselves

That's what happens in the dark

And there was no one to ask it

To stop the traces

And to rub them out.

Vasko Popa

* Foto retirada da Internet