Cumin queuing Exchanged by the fiery springs It flew away blowing When the chill was as willed as the obtrusive sky Made of cranes running Up and down until it is down below the hips.
How one would crave the distinguished dish severely Whose aroma is everything you have heard singly The pearl-like freckles beneath its wings Tastes like heaven-human savagely beating alive Increasing one's height and appetite. Oily hands that grip your heart, Slippery slides of the familiar coconut.