The doors of perception of heaven and hell
should always stay slightly ajar,
we need not nine lives to distill truth whose bell
can clearly be heard from afar.
The doors of perception, of second sight, close
upon all who would tolerance bar,
but whatever creed's screed one considers, each shows
awareness that life’s on a par
with salmon' s stream spring swings roe laden that swell
though retour à la source scales may scar.
Successful soul’s progress sheds superfluous shell
as earthworm evolves into star.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem