Perfume
“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.
(Ch. 1:8-16)
Perfume, Luigi Russolo, 1910 |
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