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Fantasies Of A Love Thief (Caurapañcāśikā)

Even now

My thought is all of this gold-tinted king's daughter

With garlands tissue and golden buds,

Smoke tangles of her hair, and sleeping or waking

Feet trembling in love, full of pale languor;

My thought is clinging as to a lost learning

Slipped down out of the minds of men,

Labouring to bring her back into my soul.

Even now

If I see in my soul the citron-breasted fair one

Still gold-tinted, her face like our night stars,

Drawing unto her; her body beaten about with flame,

Wounded by the flaring spear of love,

My first of all by reason of her fresh years,

Then is my heart buried alive in snow.

Even now

If my girl with lotus eyes came to me again

Weary with the dear weight of young love,

Again I would give her to these starved twins of arms