The lonely woman
took a liter of costly perfumed oil
made from genuine aromatic nard
and anointed his feet and
dried them with her hair;
the house was filled
with the fragrance of the oil
If you are with me
Then you will know at once
who the woman was
for whom
we identify our own
loneliness
who the man was
who died for all of us
nailed feet
bloodied hair
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem