A delicately cherished woman

Then they will try to kill your voice,

gathering around you,

dancing,

raising their heels with screams and cries.

And you will look on with a sorrowful heart—

what do they seek to take from you?

Your certainty?

Or the love of the Lord of all worlds?

Your tenderness and longing?

Or a yearning too deep to be named?

In vain,

they paint their weary faces with mud—

for truth stands clear, radiant and undeniable.

Your light shines upon the travelers,

no—it overflows.

If they cut out your tongue,

your heart holds a thousand glorious voices.

O delicate of form,

wrapped in grace of shoulders and curves,

with thick lashes

and small, gentle feet—

O daughter of poetry and becoming,

enchantress from the age of the Greeks,

daughter of the earth, pure in spirit,

a woman woven of tenderness—

Let your soul live on despite oppression,

let your fragrance remain like a flower—

and then,

you shall triumph.