Toothsome material beckons total teasing,
You must return for the throats and livers.
The food consumed by the thieves of sin,
Actually spent on you, shall be believers.
Drinking me up, the palatable sort of food
Descends into my stomach, my stolen dress.
Inside the belly we swim, to lengthen the days
As forward we march on the horizon.
To see us see is a gift for all time itself,
Myself I strive like a man of war, a man of spirituality.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem