Singing.--
--My flesh sings for silk and rich jewels;
My flesh cries for the mouth of a king.
My hair, why is it not a canopy of love,
Why does it not cover sweet secrets of love?
My hair cries to be laid upon white linen.
I have brought misery into the world.--
I have lived with a small man and my dreams have shrunk him,
Who in my dreams enlarged the glory of princes.
He looks upon me with soft eyes, and my flesh is hard against them.
He beats upon me with warm heart, and my breasts do not rise up for
him.
They are soft and forgetful of his beating heart.
My breasts dream far when he is near to them--
They droop, they die.
His hands are a tearful prayer upon my body--
I sit: there is no way between my man and my dream,
There is no way between my life and life,
There is no way between my love and my child.
I lie: and my eyes are shut. I sleep: and they open.
A world of mountains
Plunges against my sleep.--
--Lord, Lord: this is my daughter before me, her cheeks that have not
bloomed are wilting. Preserve her, Lord. This is my wife before me, her
love that has not lived is dead.--Time is a barren field that has no
end. I see no horizon. My feet walk endlessly, I see no horizon.
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