Though Your Eyebrows Surprise, And Give You An Air Of Strangeness, Which Isn't That Of The Angels, Witch With Seductive Eyes, I Adore My Frivolous Girl, My Terrible Passion, With The Devotion Of A Priest For His Idol! The Forest And The Desert Perfume Your Wild Hair: Your Head Has An Air Of The Enigma, The Secret. Round Your Flesh, Perfume Sweet Swirls Like A Censer'S Cloud: You Bewitch Like The Twilight'S Shroud, Nymph Of Shadows And Heat. Ah! The Strongest Potions Made Can't Match Your Idleness, And You Know The Caress That Resurrects The Dead. Your Hips Are Enamoured Of Your Back And Your Breasts, And The Cushions Are Ravished With Your Poses, So Languid. Sometimes To Appease Your Rage, Mysteriously, You Lavish, Gravely Your Bites And Your Kisses. You Tear Me, My Dark-Haired One, With A Mocking Smile'S Art, And Then Cast On My Heart Your Gaze Sweet As The Moon. Under Your Shoes So Satiny, Your Graceful Silken Feet, I Lay My Genius, My Wit, My Joy, And My Destiny, Restorer Of My Health'S Sweetness, You, All Color And Light, Explosion Of Warmth, Bright In My Siberian Darkness.