Eve, bride of my pride
Eve, beauty of my dreams
Look at you, how you're-gorgeous
Listen-feel-see, how you’re-glorious

Magnificent, good-looking and golden
As the unconquered summer moons
Up high in nights with cloudless sky
Burning the tiring night into a new day

See how hearts sweet you make melt in your graceful glow
See how you beautiful build, fascinating as a fountain flow
Like smooth symphony of walking waves
Rising and lessening in their peaceful runs to the wharves

Your hair falls and floats in the bare breezes
Sweet, tempting and teasing in their wheezes
Lovely and lively like young river poplars sprigs in springs
So soft long as satins wools strings

Their stable stallion's tail straight strand ends
Dancing with the winds wheezes and whispers
Reflecting and glistening as in sun beams at vespers
What a blend of sacred strand brands!

Eve, instrument of my adores
Eve, O my saint, mi amours!
How beautiful is your trace
So graceful, everything in its space
All occupants in their rightful place

Look at your face, like an infant angel’s
So tender and soft, brilliant and bright
So sacred and smooth just as purity light
Overflowing with holiness and goodness

Your slender neck tender, elegant as ascension’s splendours
Your feels and fascinates, glances and reverences  
Your contemplations and obsessions, images and illusions
Your desires and admires, your embraces and caresses
So holy and venerable, like seraphs touching sacred salutations

Your fragile soul, delicate in my arms
Your feathery feels, light in my palms
Your tender body, abandoned in my built
So pious and precious, pleasured and treasured
Eve, cherub of my pleads and praises  

Eve, goddess designed for me
Dream, resurrected from mine
Alloy, made from mine meats mettle
Pretty and pricy, so gentle and brittle
Flower, eternal instrument of my delights
You burn my Hittite’s heart with softness and tenderness
And all I dreams of, is your touches and catches-imminences

Eve, apple of my youthful eye
Rose of my maiden garden
Pomegranate of my pleasures
Eve, woman of my resting ribs
A make of my make, glory of my cheery!
How lovely you are!

How excellent you are
Covet of my cravings
How wonderful you are
Woman of my desires
How piously holy you are
Benediction of my adorations

O my object of obsessions
Dream of my awakes
Slumber, sleep of my smooth soothes
Massage of my mild caresses
Soft, tenderness of my feels
How do I wish to always wake
In your peaceful palpable palms

© Kìùra Kabiri. All rights reserved.