My delight, your luminous face is thousands of lotus flowers,
Blooming in a reservoir in a mythical sacred shrine
You are like a hallucination that hypnotized me,
Your wealth of beauty is a sandstorm that scarved and encompasses my empire
Holy designer, forest your canopy and lead her to your pasture of flourishing roses
Your body lingers on my memory,
Like a waterfall so clear that it eclipses a revelation
I am possessed by your unique nostalgia, of which I am overwhelmed by
Your skin is like the finest French vanilla,
Your incense envisions the lifeblood of Zen,
Your locks are like flames and volcanic plumes as they harness passion and faith
Your class triggers a vortex of elusive monsoons that harvest the strife of thousands
And vow to centrifuge a restoration of shrines, dancers and sanctuary
The moment my eyes were sealed upon you,
I feasted upon your stunning sculpture
Your figure gently flowing like an eastern river
Your skin shined brilliantly like silver, you tongue like clear glass
You are my paradise, and I am to be your warrior
Your eyes are clad in reason and gold,
And so the scholars of old shall of our love be told