Afghan woman, deemed a princess
Born a true blue thoroughbred
Head a chiseled face of fables
Omen 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 youthy pauper's face
Will quench you wel
Gazelle girl striding through your palace
