My Love

I see a spontaneous light in his peachen dark complexion,

Torch-song is sung in an enormous night,

Laputan concubinage is not now obstruction.

O! Eros and Venus make our mind,

Is there to be in life what else?

How do we enjoy in a love-phittre bind?

Young love cares not for consequences.

Where is a crime in a spinster?

If she became nymphet.

Soul and body is a wager,

If it's pure, at any rate.

In blossoms, we spend being bumble-bee,

For a million years, the gloomy beauty I see.