Afghan woman, deemed a princess Born a true thoroughbred Head a chilselled face of fables Omed of no ill Hills that spread around your chamber Blooms that twine around your ears Blossoms of the royalest texture angel of the years Clad in sacks and scraps of linen Living 'neath your waterwell Praying that my youth pauper's face Will quench you well Gazelle girl striding through your palace Precious jewels nestle in your hair Rameses born with platignum future Take my heart and care