The contour of its skin,
The aroma of its breath,
It beckons him.
The waves that glimmer above,
The windows that gleam from the ambers within,
It beckons him.
The honeyed sounds,
The illusive brush,
It beckons him.
The taste of ambrosia,
The carriage of sublimity,
It beckons him.
She does!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem