YOU LIE IN MY PALACE

You lie in my palace on couches of gold:
Lord, when will you ready my bed
for the one with the beautiful eyes you’ve foretold?
Why, my fine gazelle,
why do you sleep while the dawn rises
like a flag over the hills?
Ignore the mules and asses,
and see to your guileless doe:
I’m here for one like you and you for one like me.
Who enters my chambers
finds my treasure: my pomegranate, my myrrh
my cinnamon, my nectar.
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