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Oh my lover, my fruit stands upright like a mature palm tree. I am slim because the river reeds bow their heads at dusk. My hips were twisted by the grace of the snake meandering on the water, but the water did not cover it.
In the sun, my hair is a burning flame, woven on a loom with gold threads. Under the moon, my hair is a dark river, spreading across the stars.
My breasts rose with my breath, like two sheep climbing up the hill. under the sun,
My eyes are white pigeons, flying in the shade of cedar green. Under the moon, my eyes are silver fish, they dart and hide deep in obsidian.
My voice is like a fountain surging in mid-to-high heat waves, and the paleness of my cheeks is a shade lying on the desert sand. Use my kiss wine to cool your chapped lips. Sigh from the snow on the mountain and soothe your forehead.
My thighs are marble columns, guarding the entrance of the mysterious temple, black under the sun and white under the moon. With scarlet mouth, my smile was speechless.
Dear me, dance for you in the moonlight. The lamp burned out and the dog guarding the threshold entered your bed. On my strong altar, you gave my lifeline. Dance in dreams until you love sleeping instead of waking up and learn to hate dawn