Zywa
He loved honey
He was not old, but old enough
to know that soon the pleasure
of girls coming into bloom
would slip away from him
As long as possible, as long as it lasted
he was still the man who, on the back
of his camel brought a girl
to his tent after a battle
She was ripe, on the saddle
she lost her first blood
and in the orchard he drank
honey with the Coptic girl
His wives smelled it
They belittled him
in their most seductive clothes
but he said it was allowed
He even wanted an ugly girl
Therefore, for some he became
the man who loved virgins
here and in the hereafter
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