A number with address and haughty air

The ratio of  radius  so clear
And circumference which is  all round
The circle I once loved and feared

This measure  is not any integer
Nor a ratio of two, which might be sound
It is no number in my algebra.

What can  it be that caused the Greeks despair
That sent their mathematics underground?
A number with address and haughty air.

Did they say to God, it is unfair
We all go round and round and round and round
This problem sends  us  into quiet despair

But God themself hides in such lairs
He or  she is found on holy ground
We must seek  the truth with our mind’s nwares

God  has complex motives, numbers’ ground
She likes to  tease and zero has been learned
Oh , the line of  radii so dear, so near
Of the circles I  did so much revere

I found so severe.
The ground now upward rears
God  has never cared
I gave asylum shared