LES BIJOUX My well-beloved was stripped. Knowing my whim,She wore her tinkling gems, but naught besides:And showed such pride as, while her luck betides,A sultan’s favored slave may show to him. When it lets off its lively, crackling sound,This blazing blend of metal crossed with stoneGives me an ecstasy I’ve only knownWhere league of sound and lustre can be found. She let herself be loved: then, drowsy-eyed,Smiled down from her high couch in languid ease.My love was deep and gentle as the seasAnd rose to her as to a cliff the tide. My own approval of each dreamy pose,Like a tamed tiger, cunningly she sighted:And candour, with lubricity united,Gave piquancy to every one she chose. Her limbs and hips, burnished with changing lustresBefore my eyes, clairvoyant and serene,Swanned themselves, undulating in their sheen;Her breasts and belly, of my vine the clusters, Like evil angels rose, my fancy twitting,To kill the peace which over me she’d thrown,And to disturb her from the crystal throneWhere, calm and solitary, she was sitting. So swerved her pelvis that, in one design,Antiope’s white rump it seemed to graftTo a boy’s torso, merging fore and aft.The talc on her brown tan seemed half-divine. The lamp resigned its dying flame. Within,The hearth alone lit up the darkened air,And every time it sighed a crimson flareIt drowned in blood that amber-coloured skin. Skin musk and honey, blood-red rose, orange blossom, white peach, red apple, frankincense and myrrh.
