Have you heard its call? have you heard it beckoning unto you?
That striking sword in the martyrs hand that comes unawares
That darknesss shrouded in blackness that takes the martyr by surprise
Oh that cut within the newly formed wound that leaves whence it attacks
It envelops itself in you like a parasite but resists you when you forget that its consumed you as its prey
so for those who do not know of what i speak then listen to me
It feasts off of newly fashioned hearts that know naught what it' is
But for all who know of what i speak know that this is a paradox
It will kill you and bare for you a serenity from your bowels like electrifyig currents that speed through you in the beggining like electrons and in the end turn themselves out of you like a pearl from a oyster. those of you who do not know its interior do not test it for it still kills and bares no matter what and all of you wait with me for its breeze to return
For I speak of only one thing That is love
those of you who have possessed it know this
and those of you who have not yet had it will soon know
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem