The most beautiful creation of God is woman.

Painters have glorified the charms of women

With paint on canvas and poets with hearts soft

Have penned with a feathered quill

About the graces of the contours of a woman’s body.

 

When the fruit grows, the petals fall off

And when a girl grows, a woman comes into being

With beautiful round breasts, to mesmerize lovers.

Who is the man who hasn’t drunk woman’s milk?

All men have got wisdom from mother’s milk.

 

Velvety to touch, breasts speak entrancingly

Of the hidden desires of a woman,

Simultaneously arousing the fiery acts

In a man’s heart who knew not what love is

Until he held the breasts of a woman

Softly in his hands, pressing it gently

And feeling all the treasures

Of the world hidden in them.

 

Seeing a woman’s breasts makes the seeker

Come out from behind the veil of illusion.

He liberates himself from his self-imposed prison–

He sees love, he sees light, he sees truth.

Drunk with love, with feline grace,

His kisses fall on the breasts,

As dew to grass.

 

Face to face with love and passion incarnate,

He listens to the tinkling of the bangles

Soothed by glow of the candles,

And the clinking of her anklets,

He surrenders to the Goddess of Love,

Feeling enlightened and illumined.

 

pramila khadun