What obeisance is more captivating
than the scent of a woman?
Without the flowers and herbs of old
perfume enchanted by body bold.
Perhaps well worked, or well refreshed
without some falsely scented flesh
For the scent of a woman is unrestrained
although my memories may be stained
In this fair prison where I remain
a body male, and male a brain
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem