Duty to the Beauty

 

These tiniest showers fall,

Just like dream sweetest call

When we lie asleep,

Beloved, thy same slender sip

Through eyes leaves me wined;

As if in heavens I dined.

 

Those pouty fishy full lips;

Divine experience smitten tips,

And me smooched over them,

Plucked, then, the sweetest gem

Out of feminine treasure house,

Oh! Greatest fire it dost douse.

 

And thou fall for me

Like the windfallen flower to see

Its beauty fully blown;

Those petals having much shone,

Now was the time

To reach the prime.

 

O my beauty, I am the means to thy end,

Thou art Godsent,

And me the beauty’s supplement;

To be used for its fulfillment,–

Black bee for the bud virgin,

Beauty’s utility then begin.

 

What a great utilitarian, beauty!

So many boulders haughty

Corrode to die a death sandy,

So that river’s curves become more trendy,

Flows which then with a pride;

Starry eyes shine, O groomed bride.

 

I’m made for thee sweetlet,

Damn sure, I can bet

To exist away from company thine,

Thou but can’t without this pine,

And some say I consumeth you,

Me thus the blamers sue.

 

O my little flower, tell

Me a single one dwell

Immortal in this world

Without crusher’s press hurled

Around the petals soft,

While the perfume cometh

As the much cherished croft.

 

I exist for thee, O my beauty,

‘Complete thou’ is my duty.