A song From a wall

At my garden
Of a thousand apples
You can find big snakes to.
And on my forehead
There are signs of sin.
I have large tanks of ashes
In which I grovel sometimes, true.
But with this all,
I've never spoken to a snake
(he never offered me some apples)
And those marks on my face,
They didn't bring me, neither closer to god
Nor farther from the beasts of man.