Scent of your perfume wears me down,
Glancing at your lotus lips I take a thousand bows,
Eyes of mirrors contain an image of an angel,
Your fiery hair melts me at this instance,
Your loins are prepared from the finest silk,
Ripe melons remind me of your luscious bosom,
Your neck is an ornament made for Gods,
With a stroke of fingers you have spellbindered me,
As you motion me to come forward,
I become flightless,
Each step towards you is a trip to heaven,
Tears of joy cascade my eyes filling the breach between our hearts,
Scattering like roots I fasten my soul onto yours,
Soaking up on your beauty I misplace reality,
These memoirs of yours shall keep me composed.
