I see with alien eyes, as my soul is imprisoned
In this false form.
The sound of my voice is not of my own. Surely,
It has lovelier notes.
The real smell of the rose coaxes a sigh from the throat of heaven.
When sweet nectar passes my lips,
Does not my tongue dance for joy?
When you and I embrace, the love of God flows merrily
Through our veins
And ignites our blood.
When I awake from this teaching slumber,
I will at last, be home.