A woman's body is a poem,
Composed by God, and proven
In Nature's mighty registry,
Because the spirit moved Him.
Propitious was the hour for Him,
And God was quite delighted;
Such brittle and rebellious stuff
A woman's body is indeed
The Song of Songs in splendor;
The lovely, wondrous strophes are
Her limbs, so white and slender.
O what a heavenly idea
Must this bare neck be, surely,
Upon which sways the little head,
The keystone, pert and curly!
The rosebuds of her breasts, they are
Unspeakably charming, the ceasura
That parts them, so dramatic.
And the creator makes the hips
In parallel formation;
With fig-leaf, the parenthesis
Is also a nice location.
It's no abstract conceptual poem!
The song has flesh, combining
Both hand and foot; to laugh, to kiss
With lovely lips a-rhyming.
Here breathes the truest poesy!
Grace in animation!
And on its forehead bears the song
The stamp of consummation.
I want to sing Thy praise, O Lord,
And praise with glory leaven!
We're only bunglers next to Thee,
The mighty bard of Heaven.
I want to sink myself, O Lord,
Into Thy poém's glory;
I'll study it, both day and night,
To make my offertory.
I'll study it all night and day,
No time to lose. My body
And legs are grown so skinny now -
That comes from lots of study.
Posted by permission of the
translator ~ © 2005