Along the many empty streets,
The only object in motion
Is the hair of the woman.
I was of three men
Like the features of her body
For which there are three major parts.
Her breath mystifies in the wind
It was a part of the Earth’s air.
Her beauty and her grace
Just as the love of man and woman
Yet I know not which I prefer;
The spirit in which she arouses within me
Or the heart beat in which she steadily increases
The woman before
Or after beauty fades.
Her aroma fills the nostrils of man’s soul
With the smell of seductiveness.
The perfume of the goddess Venus
Flowing through the breath of the earth,
Exhaled long ago
Her form shaped
By His Mighty hands,
Her innate benevolence.
O wise eyes of paradise,
Why do you not acknowledge what your eyes see?
Are you oblivious to the woman’s grace?
It slips through the minds
Of the men about you.
I know the beauty in nature
And the grace in which the wind blows the flowery fields
But I also know
What the woman has taught me
And what is known has been shown by her.
When her presence is gone
It marks an ending
Of one of few women like her.
At the sight of her eyes
Glistening in the sunlight
Every living male creature pauses
And bows down.
He once travelled across the world
In various modes of transportation,
He met another woman along the way
And mistook her misleading sway
As The Woman that he had seen in a previous day.
The world is in rotation
She must be on the move.
It was Feliz Navidad all year
It was cold
And it was going to get colder
Yet the woman’s hair alone,
Was the only thing moving throughout the empty streets.