O feminine Ideal! O soft sigh!
round girth of life, gently swaying!
Singing round faces preparing
voluptuous feasts, swinging swords.
Broad freckled shoulders
shining with labor in the sun!
Women's work! The work so honorable,
noble, brave!
She is life-giver supreme!
"**! Look here!" She shouts
with voice so powerful
She shouts to her husband, to her wife,
to her children, to her fields
which she has sown,
to her home and castle,
to her father and brothers.
"Look here! See my strong arms,
my legs and hips, my belly and *******,
my hands and feet and flowing hair!
Tend these as I were a goddess,
for all that I gift you!"
Leap to her, quickly! Her demand
must be met with passion
And body blinding like armor in sunlight,
only she may wear it well, Only she
is trained in the weapons her body yields.