Afghan woman, deemed a princess
Born a true thoroughbred
Head a chilselled face of fables
Omed of no ill

Hills that spread around your chamber
Blooms that twine around your ears
Blossoms of the royalest texture angel of the
years

Clad in sacks and scraps of linen
Living 'neath your waterwell
Praying that my youth pauper's face
Will quench you well

Gazelle girl striding through your palace
Precious jewels nestle in your hair
Rameses born with platignum future
Take my heart and care