Misty black having dispelled, dripping light,
Yes, You have come.
Inside thinking hard to reach, on the sly,
You have laughed a-soft.
Blossoms, they pine for Thee;
In petals, oh my, love is filling.
With bath's sweetness of surmise,
Ambrosia exuding,
Do come, come alongside, blend with heart;
Why are You afar?
Smiling on mind-sky, morn's setting full moon[1] tells:
Beyond ebony, You are filled with sweetness.
All of the honey, my Dearest Beloved,
Why You've kept form-stored?
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Having tasted honey's sweetness, I need You in its absence.
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