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She brightened like a child whose broken toy is glued together,
summon tears as one summons servants,
 and danced like a flower in the wind.

She disclaimed the weariness, 
that dragged upon her spirits like leaden weights, 
exude a faint and intoxicating perfume of womanliness, 
like a crushed herb,
and felt like an unrepentant criminal.

She flounders like a huge conger-eel 
in an ocean of dingy morality,
gave me a surprised look, 
like a child catching an older person in a foolish statement,
and  gave off antipathies as a liquid gives off vapor.

She has great eyes like the doe,
heard me like one in a dream, 
and let the soft waves of her deep hair fall, 
like flowers from Paradise.

She looked like a tall golden candle,
moved like mirth incarnate,
and  saw this planet,
 like a star hung in the glistening depths of even.

She seemed as happy 
as a wave that dances on the sea,
walks in beauty like the night,
brilliant, and as hard too, as electric light,
silent, standing before me like a little statuesque figure.

By Seth Yuhi Musinga

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