Caroling Dusk/The Serving Girl

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THE SERVING GIRL

The calabash wherein she served my food,Was smooth and polished as sandalwood:Fish, as white as the foam of the sea,Peppered, and golden fried for me.She brought palm wine that carelessly slipsFrom the sleeping palm tree’s honeyed lips.But who can guess, or even surmiseThe countless things she served with her eyes?

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