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!