It just struck me, in a moment of insanity.
What a joy it was to see through the perplexing mystery.
My grandmom and her grandmom, and moms Et al.
All through time infinity,
Worshipped the shiva linga, in pious divinity,
When as a child I asked what were it, I never got answers,
As a man I figured out, but it was like half truth, never satisfied what was real what was tout.
It struck me, as if from shiva, he whispered to me ear,
When a man reaches madness,
Has no reason to base his spiritual calmness,
Looses utter faith,
Has no goal, no room for fait,
No one to look for, no one to wait,
Parvati lends the phallus a womb of mate,
That us why all you see is the phallus protruding,
Into the womb of the world,
Serene, calm and satiated,
Because Parvati is embracing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem