How doth he dare to face me?
O dear lady thou have won
The heart of mine the ladies man.
O femme fatale as I burn
For the possession of thy frame
Fail I women all who crave me.
See all these are queens no less
Make them willing maids to thee.
Served as thus by all of them
Won’t thou look a goddess then?
In the Pushpak that I won
Come to live like favoured one.
If ever thy man regains crown
Would he make a patch on me?
So that I add honey as well
Know thy buttered side of bread.
Lovebirds like we all our life
Live ever making love no end.