1. With a supple frame and graceful bearing
His glance and gesture ceaseless battle wage

2. If his face shine forth, his days grant unto us
Limbs severed by estrangement he could assuage

3. And if to his polished mirror I should look
I'd think no human owns eyes above this sage

4. As though his cheek had donned sweet musk for me
Or night did o'er his face a shadow page

5. The light of his cheeks pours on my vision
Sketching by night shapes over dawn presage