I peek all I can
Through the beads covering the window;
A table, a pencil, or a pen, and a fan,
That's all what she needed to write a poem,
...
In the desert, under the coloring rays of sun,
Her eyelashes narrated the story of the sour rum.
Five strands, not being able to count, symbolized a mare-night.
The first, silent devotion dedicated to God as a rite.
...