Resting in a hot bath
I had an unholy vision
Of an olive tree.
Its virginal pit
Still deep inside the fruit
Hinting to be extracted
With teeth
And lubricated tongue
Preparing to do the probing
I noticed on a low branch
The noose of a braided rope
Reminding me
Of forbidden pleasures
By vice-like grip
On the day of rest
When 30 shekels today
Will not buy a bale of hay
Or peace of dove
~~~
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem