Was she, a woman of beauty
Florets gaze at her with jealousy
Attractive brown eyes were they
   Roses fall for her lips to say
   Borrow me your pinky colour
   For my tender lips to gay
   Black curly hair that stay
   On her shoulder like the Ray
   Singing a song on her way
   A voice as sweet as honey
   Moving in a dancing way
   Like the peahen slowly sway