| @@ He had to wash you white waterAt the feet of the mountain,
 Rub your body till the amber dripped out,
 Until the perfume of paradise emanated
 from your curves,
 So that butterflies take wings
 Out of your armpits.
 He had to wash you
 Burnish the gold for you,
 To enrich with you the ample
 flow of the river,
 So that craving for sweet courtesies
 Would flow into the water and plants,
 Like a imminent wedding.
 
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