The beauty of her body,
Far surpasses the hatred in thine soul.
For her the indifferent earth would rage,
Its mountain ranges torn asunder,
For her the superior sky would rage,
Its lighting without thunder.
In the hollow of thine chest,
Lives the hatred of thine heart,
In the hollow of thine chest,
She lives, set far apart.
For her the mortal men will strive,
To more heroic deeds than before,
For her the greater Gods will strive,
To create things of beauty more.
You watch, anger in your eyes,
And see the sweetness of her smile.
That feeling of hatred dies,
As you see the sweetness of her smile.
In the hollow of thine chest,
Forgotten is the hatred of thine heart.
In the hollow of thine chest,
She no longer resides apart.
For her you’d battle grim Death,
With whatever courage you might call.
For her you’d battle grim Death,
Forever in luscious lady’s thrall.
For the love in her heart,
Far surpasses what love is left in yours.
