there is no limit to your good fortune!
No enquiries have been made into your lineage, your rank,
and yet day and night you taste the nectar of her lips.
Colour, fragrance and softness all merge in her:
a rose-petal on her cheeks loses its identity.
Her hue is golden, and the saffron paste mingles indistinguishably with her complexion:
only its fragrance proves its existence.
Bihari Lal (1595 - 1663) India
Source: The British Museum Indian Love Poetry, chosen by A.L. Dallapiccola, British Museum Press, 2013
Thank you for the find
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