With no fear in his brave heart
He rows with consummate art
Crossing from part to part
Through the smell of incense
The air so creamy and dense
Over the vast expanse
Of river-crossed lands

He sees short big-breasted females
And women as thin as air
Like rigmaroles at the fair
Move below through fields and vales

He sees white long shadows
Floating down the river
Among feathers that quiver
In boats ever so slow

The feathers black and soft
Are caressed by the wind
They melt through the mind
Like candles borne aloft

Candles lit at the four corners
Of a rich bridal fourposters
Where the shape of all his yearnings
Waits for him all love and longings

On rich black mantles
His bride rests
Looked over
By the four tall candles
As by the eyes of a mother

White as white can be
Set out by all that blackness
As in a waveless sea
She is a fountain of sweetness

Her sex is like a bunch of lilies
Invisibly mantled in blue
Like the curve of a sweet green hill
Sweetened by perfumes and hues

Palely blushing
Languidly trembling
Perfumes sweet smelling
Non-alien sounds
From the body on the bed
Still and quiet like the dead