It was on a lunar shroud day, I thought to move
"Why?" Asked that revolting deformed man
Crawling gradually gripping his peeling skin he again asked "Why?"
I was un hung, my smooth hair looked like a bundle of dark fleece of a sheep
I tuned in the traditional music
The ringers in my feet I moved in that roadway to tophet
The monstrous agonizing man with puncturing eyes –
"Stop", he said
He looked on my bare soma
"You are sexy, don't move, that is damnation", he grinned
I moved, I saw, he had no lips
However he talked
His terrible eyes had a puzzling patch of the brilliant mix of a stream
stroking his neck area
I moved; the rhythms of music talked a thousand implicit words
He said –
"I like your naked corse, the sweat exotic
Stop, I need to have intercourse"
I moved; the beats of Kajiranga resounded
Grinning I sang to him
"Have intercourse while I move
The obscuration will be over soon, so will be my move"
So have intercourse while I move"
He strolled towards me –
Peacefully, his taps mixed with the spiritualist rhythms of my ringers
Twenty each on my feet, forty chimes
Coarse fingers wiping his face he sprung on me
I moved, as he sprinkled dilute on my tears raging my eyes
"He cherished your eyes, didn't he?" the revolting man inquired
"Indeed, he did however I adored you, now you are dead and revolting, how would I have intercourse?"
I moved, he had intercourse
the chimes on my feet –
he shredded them
He lifted me in his arms
Whispering in my ears that terrible man said "He adored your eyes, didn't he?"
I answered "He has my portrayals of bare eyes, I didn't have kohl, it was my dull eyes that he cherished"
The revolting dead man left holding his peeling skin–
I stood bare on that parkway where we had intercourse
Ringers in my feet –
I moved my way, to discover him the person who adored my eyes
