There ought to be a religion named in your honor—
For all the skeptics you made converts,
For those of us who gave sacrifice at the altar,
We who loved and clung to you
With cult-like passion
Your words were Gospel
Your touch touted
The powers of healing
We sought salvation
In your promises
Your powers of seduction
Supreme to mere mortals
Your hold on the soul-eternal
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem