Skin and bone - the epitome of beauty -
display all that is loveable to the flat-on
roving mechanism of my dimensional eye.
The saints may pray, I think, for me:
God give him second sight to see
with blind touch and hooded eye
into a region beyond the retina, into the abyss
of blinding light and transforming fire.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem