Staring at her on the couch
Her face illumed by the moon
I stand in awe of the Craftsman
Who made my virgin bride
The one whose bosom
Sons of men vied for
What craving possessed me
To grow silver strands for the untouched?
Seeds revolted in my loins but
For her honour I kept my pride
I embraced celibacy
That I may possess pure love
Alas!
The unstained white sheets mock me
Green I might be at wild sea but
This ship has been sailed before now
Tonight was to be my gift for waiting
But unlike Joseph the carpenter
I received no visitor
Yet I must keep mum
And bear the burden of one
Who dips fingers in honey
But swallows vinegar
Sleepless and tearful
I long to snatch my bride from
Sweet dream's embrace
To seek the truth
I shall forever live with.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem