The Covered Houri Poem by Oleg Vorobyov

A graceful form in a hidjab
from Gujarat, Kerman, Punjab.

Just eyes, just flaming pencilled eyes!
Oh, temptress, devil in disguise!

She whisked by me, a silken touch:
my hand caught fire, burned as much!

The eyes read passion's throbbing verse!
My wound was smarting like a curse!

She dissipated in thin air
and left me murmuring a prayer:

"Oh, Kama, grant me fruit desired
to quench my thirst in Thy vilayet! "

What odalisque divine in wrapping
surprised me by an ingenious trapping?

Zuhra, Jasmin, Leila, perhaps,
how clever you at setting traps!

The lover's sensitive acumen
can't help interpreting a woman!

The eyes, the silk, the gait, the stance
had left me least, however, chance!

Am I to turn a mad Madjnun? -
By nights aware is the Moon