The best of us abstain from the food
Of lovers, the food of blessings, and the food
Of taste. This bursts and revolves around the stomach,
My science is my conviction as I eat these words,
The worlds of industry are open to me,
Like doors to the pleasure-realm.
As I bite the candles of heaven, a flame
Is extinguished to be replaced by feeling
And emotion, the same recipe of love.
The best of us supply our food,
As fathers gather the halves and wholes
Of food, we remind the elders to clothe
Their winters, and afford their summers.
I like to eat and consume barrels,
Plates will object to the style of consumption.
My banquet is my door to the other side,
As it is the request of my personage,
And I dissolve these surroundings
So that one day my offspring will venture
Forth into the rights of dainty dishes.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem