The rock in my rockery standing high
talks volumes to me each time I pass by.
Speaking of the beach from which it was claimed
and of serenity which the island was famed.
A "thin place, " where both heaven and earth meet;
and Ionian pilgrims used to greet.
Reminds me too, that I am a pilgrim here
journeying closer to heaven each year.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem