An Apple, her eyes are not as that of Milky Way
Her dressing is not as good of rosily costume bay
She does not have any description of Fanny in Bright Stars
Harmonizing hum of nightingale she does not have any steer
I saw a peacock, colours does not match with my mistress
If goddess are kind hearted, why then her mind is malicious
Her weaving is not as perfectly good as of rich brocade
I know her body is fully covered by the grimy cakes
And body does not have an aroma of rosy fragrance
And I know she is not from millinery environment
But I concur I never saw a guardian angel in this world
Beautiful girls are there than my mistress in the world
But I believe, by cupid, my love is glued with her
And nobody can break my next of kin here Unless Unless the world screams on our fair
Glossary
Bay- ever green tree
Brocade- cloth made out of gold and silver
Cupid- god of love
