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Eyes ravished with rapture, celestially panting,
what passionate bosoms aflaming with fire Drink deep of the hush of the hyacinth heavens that glimmer around them in fountains of light; O wild and entrancing the strain of keen music that cleaveth the stars like a wail of desire, And beautiful dancers with houri-like faces bewitch the voluptuous watches of night. The scents of red roses and sandalwood flutter and die in the maze of their gem-tangled hair, And smiles are entwining like magical ser- pents the poppies of lips that are opiate- sweet; Their glittering garments of purple are burn- ing like tremulous dawns in the quiver- ing air, And exquisite, subtle and slow are the tinkle and tread of their rhythmical, slumber- soft feet. Now silent, now singing and swaying and swing- ing, like blossoms that bend to the breezes or showers, Now wantonly winding, they flash, now they falter, and, lingering, languish in radiant choir; Their jewel-girt arms and warm, wavering, lily- long fingers enchant through melodious hours, Eyes ravished with rapture, celestially pant- ing, what passionate bosoms aflaming with fire! |
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