Oh Goddess mine,
Placed just below your shoulders,
By Cupid, the God of love,
Tearing your blouse which is attached,
To your body by the sweat,
When you think of the greatness of your Lord,
And resembling pots of Gold,
Your breasts appear to be tied by him,
Securely three times,
By the three creeper like folds (The three folds on the belly).
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