Draw up your skirt, O woman of temptation.
Then watch yourself flirt with no contemplation.

Attracting the slack-jawed -- the ignorant ***,
whose thinking is drawn to *** as you pass.

Set bare your breast to these "love-confessors"
and bare all your flesh to the fangs of oppressors.

Make them pay for your meals, for your wine and delight.
Then let them steal you away in the night.

Put feathers in your hair -- the peacock's vanity! --
Then watch the men stare and whisper profanity.

Wear lace and sheer clothing; hide not from their gawking.
Then listen, with loathing, to the non-sense they're talking.

Perfume yourself in myrrh, draw all senses in your direction.
Then drink in their ardour, and their misplaced affection.

Build tall your chancel with pleasure and desires;
play the distressed damsel, O great queen of liars!

You'll find soon enough the emptiness of touch.
You'll call your own bluff, and drop what you clutch.

But until then, sullen temptress, drive yourself from my door.
Leave my sight, but don't distress; I've no want for your flesh any more.