Dear Poet-Saint,
While you are dervished,
schlurped up or down
by the volume of the matter
and love,
I am schlurped up or down,
dervished,
by the love of the what
of the matter
(with which I worked out a name for the poem
after crafting its body and end
until to you the whole poem I could send) .
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Dervish, whirling love but found, outcast flung, but not unbound.