1. And a dancer at dawn with her movements
Sets the rhythm of song to a measure

2. Her words sung with a chant
Like a robe worn with pride brought low by a slave

3. She treads on listeners' hearts with ease
Catching whatever songs hold of count

4. With a nape that would slay the branch with its motions
Still while the branch is far from the nape’s grace

5. You’d think her fingers’ hints and signs
To what each limb feels of rapturous joy

6. But not her, what she complains of love’s ardour
And tears of yearning hollowing the cheek