Page:Satanella (1932).pdf/32

 For whose heavy, toxic nectar

One could die with endless yearning.

And the buds upon her bosom

Forward shot like restless billows

Till your head swam in a circle

Longing for a restful moment

On their dusky, silky velvet.

And her hair now closely braided

In three garlands round her forehead,

Like a frame about a picture;

Once released, would surely tumble

To her heels like waves of ocean.

But another transformation:—

At the gate she stood no longer,

But amidst the crowding masses

She was dancing in the market.

All around her, like an ocean

Colored caps and dusky features,

People shouting, noisy discourse

'twixt the tambourine and cymbal.

Like a lily twig, her body,

In her eyes a flame of lightning

Slender limbs in dancing, twirling

Like a leaf, when stirred by breezes.