The gate is narrow, yet the yoke is light.
Water glitters an instant, then, is gone
In crowns of diamonds on wave-crests in sight
Through lazy haze of summer days so long.
The cable cars are buzzing in the breeze
Laden with wafting perfume, dough, and salt
On sun-kissed skin's hidden, forbidden seas
Beneath the edifices built by fault.
Learn to never fear our weary years!
On earth, who knows the worth of every birth?
Infinity's amidst our mists of tears,
Welling from depths of dearth, as well as mirth-
I yearn to see the faces of the saints,
For they're the self-portraits that Jesus paints!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem