The Bayadere
Flaked, drifting clouds hide not the full moon’s raysMore than her beautiful bright limbs were hidBy the light veils they burned and blushed amid,Skilled to provoke in soft, lascivious ways,And there was invitation in her voiceAnd laughing lips and wonderful dark eyes,As though above the gates of ParadiseFair verses bade, Be welcome and rejoice!
O’er rugs where mottled blue and green and redBlent in the patterns of the Orient loom,Like a bright butterfly from bloom to bloom,She floated with delicious arms outspread.There was no pose she took, no move she made,But all the feverous, love-envenomed fleshWrapped round as in the gladiator’s meshAnd smote as with his triple-forked blade.
I thought that round her sinuous beauty curledFierce exhalations of hot human love,—Around her beauty valuable aboveThe sunny outspread kingdoms of the world;Flowing as ever like a dancing fireFlowed her belled ankles and bejewelled wrists,Around her beauty swept like sanguine mistsThe nimbus of a thousand hearts’ desire.