As dusk sets in,
It dawns -
Initiation is nigh.
Neophytes are a bundle of nerves
As the grandmaster arrives.
It is the season of desire -
of sexuality and fertility: Declares the Master.
All things at ease,
Inhibitions are lost
Neophytes rise to the occasion.
They hunger to seek fulfillment.
Satisfaction is the gift.
It starts with a gentle persistence
The slow healing begins
Beholden in self ideas of ecstasy
They lose self and loosen their souls.
To fulfill wildest fantasies -
They wine in the cup of Lusty goddess
and dine in pleasure of the horny Lord.
As the spirits climax,
It is all heat.
Neophytes moan in frenzied trance
As in Orgia of the Meter Theon.
Amid the euphoric ecstatic rite
A Gallus is born.
In an ecstatic union with divinity,
Liberated initiates are born.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem