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  UNRUFFLED SONG OF PURE CONTENT

 

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by Ali Tal

 

1

Arisen from the sweet arms of the Fulfiller Of All Wishes, graceful upon the eastern balcony the beloved of my heart's desire and I are soothed by the euphonious harmony of the night. Where Happiness to its utmost Bliss spreads, we sit most blessed in our high lustrous bower. Beneath the teeming canopied embroidery of Heavens' luminous hues, on a couch we recline. I pull on a white abeyeah, and Fawzeah puts on an extremely simple decollete Kaftan twined with bouquets of tiny forget-me-nots; her purfled scarf, of delicate-coloured woofs and shifting tones, over her left shoulder falls. Her hair, ornamented with pearls, hangs down her back to her waist, concealing her marble shoulders in its hyacinthine flow. Almond-shaped and languishingly hazel are her eyes; vermeil blossoms of the pomegranate will lose in comparison with the blushes that on her cheeks bloom. Beneath their sinuous veil her glowing lips heighten her allure.

Extended beams of calm moonlight sail over the ageless and joyous glory of meadows and wooded hills; more wondrous than any man could ever tell. Lustrous white-mirrors flicker on a placid Orontes and come quiet to our eyes in a silvery view. O! So sweet are the descants that mingle from afar.

2

Then, when through looking our hearts can no longer endure to look at that exotic drapery of dance and song, the flare of the eye reveals the deepest wish; it is the force that captivates all of the soul, and we groan as ones to desire have given in. Enthroned on the dais of sang-froid, we sink into velvet ensconced in the glow of Wadd's sweet moonlight beams, the very picture of lovers' content. Strangers to pain and woe, devoted to delight and the glittering joys of youth, our hearts know no separate impulse.

We, who carry with us Adam and Eve's flesh, in the posture of courtship stretch upon a divan of softest down on a canopied bed of pure jewelled gold, by the large window framed. Along the sill, a fine finger of soft silvery ray wavers and glows. Fully aware where we are and whence we came, we are an unruffled song of pure content before His Throne of Glory Supreme. Idly we lie in the tenderness of our kindred arms, and swim in each other's eyes in search of some warmer delight. Our bodies sanctified and glorious, clothe our souls once more with the ardour of the flesh. Mortal shapes induced with love and life and light. Two lovely souls formed to be blessed and bless, cradles of young thoughts and of wingless pleasures. Too happy we are, our joys sought extinguishes all sense and thought of regret.

3

And as the quick throbs in our veins grow, our heads become fevered and our hearts beat as one; our faculties and affections tuned, celebrate our devotion to pleasure. Both wordless; she, my sweet, is sybaritic and vast, and I, her man, epicurean and consummate. O sweetest love, who wraps me in her smile, how impassioned is the music of your sighs in my ears!

When the gentle breeze whiffs the green gossamer-like shades, in rose and orange blossom entwined, leaflike shadows over our so perfect torsos move. As the shadows and curves of our bodies in repose give in to the urge, the heartbeat and breath draw us this close; closer still, together we curl up this high upon the dais of Bliss. Like notes of music formed for one another without discord, we turn here and there to some happy tune in our heads to take in the light. Enveloped by the timeless music of flesh, each stroke and caress precisely in place lay. Oh! how tenderly flames of love, so living, in warm torrents rush down face and chest. Now that she is embraced by the warmth of Love's pleasurable fires, and somehow still by mine; how can we tell which is hers and which is mine? Though Love and Joy composed her smiling soul, true lasciviousness holds sway over her mind. Her aroused bosoms heaving, Fawzeah's warm breath light sighs: 'Ah Yusuf! Let me hear that fervent groan. Let me feel that hot breath here and there to spread in my yearning body everywhere.'

With my fluttering heart, with keen fingers, with gaping eyes, with my bared body with my lips for our sweet encounter I tear the Kaftan, and behold her panting breasts; these pert, erect nipples of rose-pink. My eyes drink up their passionate call as I tremble before their roundness to sink my hands down her sides and draw the circle of her gasp. Feeding, grazing on, my lips stray lower where the pleasant fountain lies. I feel the reach of her limbs cling and cleave to me as vines going eagerly up; they wrap my passion with their passion; my pleasure is one with theirs; her thrills are rapt in mine.

The night, its grandeur and splendour that encloses us, are surpassed in gift by the flesh which is strengthened to make ready for whatever gives us joy; the more pleasing is the relish of flesh bestowed upon us since it is perfected. O so great the spoils of Love I get and give!

4

The fearless urge in our loins slowly settling into tranquil hush, on our backs we lie and share a whispered smile. Now, our minds are far wandering from the naked flesh and less caught up in the network of its engrossing thought. And after the right words and gestures pass round, a soft squeeze of the hand and attentive we loll dreaming with contented eyes, lazily glancing all about. My dear maid lies as sweet as a muskrose upon my arm. All our limbs are rested, ours eyes softly close; we are lulled the night to be at the beckon and of call of the dreaming lovers.

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