Reading A Poem In Translation Is Like

I See That I Must Give What I Most Need.

Reading A Poem In Translation Is Like Kissing A Woman Through A Veil.

Hold A Book In Your Hand And You're A Pilgrim At The Gates Of A New City.

I Wanted A Line In A Poem To Be The Hollow Ney Of The Dervish Orchestra Whose Plaintive Wail Is A Call To God. But All I Achieved Was Awkward Shrieking. Not Even The Pure Shriek Of A Reed In The Rain.

But Sometimes The World Disrobes, Slips Its Dress Off A Shoulder, Stops Time For A Beat. If We Look Up At That Moment, It's Not Due To Any Ability Of Ours To Pierce The Darkness, It's The World's Brief Bestowal. The Catastrophe Of Grace.