For a true mystical poet
his life is his material.
He is created for more truth
than he can see with his own
intelligence and his studies.
He is created for more love
than his will alone can achieve.
Truth cannot live in a mystic
unless he freely and by his
own volition recognize and
cast out the falsity of sin.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem