For you alone, enchanting beauties,
Queens of my spirit, for your sake
Did I convert to scribal duties
Some golden leisure hours, and make,
To whisperings of garrulous ages,
Once-upon-a-time my faithful task.
When He comes Back
When he comes back
to my arms
I’ll make him feel
what nobody ever felt
Go, take the hot stone, and heat it near her clitoris:
For the severed part is a sacred djuda ranggI. Covering up the clitoris within the mat, wherein the mat, wherin its transverse fibre, wherin its mouth, its inner peak …
Go, put out the rangga, making it big: open your legs, for you look nice!
Yes, Miralaidj, my sister. Yes, the mouths of the mat is closed.
Yes, go, rest there quietly, for the vagina is sacred, and the rangga are hidden there, like younger siblings, covered up so no one may see.
