As new disciples gather
to proffer idyllic adoration
and marvel at the neck of the virgin swan,
be mindful of those that bring nothing to the table
but want everything in return;
be careful who next petitions your heart,
sail through their paper-thin veiled verbs
and as you search
remember the last mast
you bound your colours to
was broken beyond
even you to nurse.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem