Classic Poem

Thinking him a man,
I stretched out my right hand towards him.

As soon as I kept my hand on his hand,
my hand got wet with a horrid smell.

I washed my hand many times
with ashes
and with sweet-smelling soaps.

I went bathing many times in the Ganges
and in all the oceans.

Even I bathed my whole body
with sacredness, hatred and love.

Yet that horrid smell has not vanished at all
from my right hand and from my whole body.

Alas! now I think of that hand-
Was it the hand of a fox scratching corpses?
Or was it the hand of a vulture or of a hyena?

[Taken from the poet's first book 'First Sin of Love']