With the intoxicated zeal of youth
I ran to the desert,
excommunicating myself
from the world.
The desire to please you, my love,
led me from the deserts of Abu Mena,
to the jagged rocks of Skellig Michael.
I staggered on,
drinking more of you
than I could hold.
Overflowing with tears
the golden sand became
a vast carpet of oleander
and jasmine.
You brushed away
the desert of my heart
with your sweet breath
on my lips.
I am a walking garden,
the eighth wonder of the world,
carried on the caravan of love.
(2009)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is like a love poem to god (like Rumi wrote) . No boring, bland love poem this! 'I am a walking garden' alone could serve as an entire poem in itself.