A beautiful woman of equestrian breadth,

Lets the ends of her hair dandle in her wine,

And the talons of love and the poisons of nightclubs,

Give her marble skin lifelessness and gloss,

And she teases Death and ridicules Debauchery,

Those monsters that her hand, always scraping and poor,

In her destructive games had ever respected

In this firm and right body lives a rude majesty,

She walks like a goddess, and reposes as a sultan;

And finds, in pleasure, a Mahometan faith.

And in her open arms, arms that fill womb to brim,

She, barren virgin, believes and knows.

Necessary is her path within the world,

Where corporeal beauty is a sublime gift,

And against all infamy it uproots the apology.

She ignores Hell as she does Purgatory,

And when her hour will come to enter dark Night,

She will look into the face of death,

Like a newborn – without hate and remorse.

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