“If you don’t know, O fairest of them all,
then follow trails and tracks made by his sheep.
We know he’ll find you, for you him enthrall.
Now graze your goats near tents where shepherds sleep.”
“I liken you, my darling, to a mare
‘mid Pharaoh’s chariot-stallions neighing loud.
Your ears are lovely dressed with gold so rare.
I’ll give you jewels of which you will be proud.”
The king was on his couch, he was at rest.
My perfume spread its fragrance through the room.
My lover laid his head upon my breast.
He is to me like henna in full bloom.
“How beautiful you are, my dear, my dove.”
How elegant are you, my man, my love.
|Perfume, Luigi Russolo, 1910|