A young beau peeks between
the branches
of the old willow tree
To see his maiden's reflection
Bathing before the Gods
Bearing her body
Touched with soft light
Gentle winds push her irresistible locks
Suddenly he is there
Standing before her
Brought out from behind
By lover's trace
He stood before her
Shielding himself from the Gods
When his maiden spoke
In hushed tones

*"Come. Let us wash those sins away."