If better priests are scratched so lightly
Their wasteful, sour, hushed aspects are anointed
Five times from the heart, for each finger
Of one hand, having the sense of eternity.
Silky thumbs are alight,
A vociferous qualm enlightens the several hapless
Victims,
In one hand a stain has been rich and lovely,
To see the tasteless stains is apt and adequate.
Be hard and light at the same time!
Be love's severity and not gentleness!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem