He went to a rose garden
All he saw were thorns.
He went to the distant, alluring mountains
What he saw were mountain lions sitting on bare rocks
ready to eat him alive.
He went to the green pastures
What he saw were stinking, dirty sheep
cows, cowherds, cow boys, cow dung.
He was dying of thirst in a desert
Oasis after oasis he chased
he could not find a single one.
He carried within him a desert
a barren desert it was,
nothing could grow or thrive in it.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem