Our lord passes us a thimble.
He says, eat, drink and be merry.
He now passes us a needle.
And says sow me a patchwork-
quilt, as big as the world
let all nations gather under one
blanket, appease-themselves
with just a basket of gentian flowers
lying at the foot of that mountain,
above the clouds - and here
transcend your thoughts,
into a teardrop and let those-
salty pure teardrops pool
into an ocean in which
a desert brings forth life.
And like a snowflake
melting on your brow,
I'll take on the sorrows of the world.
And hand you back to your old life
less all its transgressions
less all its misgivings.
I'll hand you back the thimble of life.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem