Safi, Morocco
“Who am I?” She burst into a bitter wail;
“I am just a heavy burden; I am stale!”
You’re the lovely princess of a fairy tale,
You‘re the very woman beside the female,
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You are the soft second half of the male,
The mother, the fuel of our wheel and sail;
You are the one who makes us all inhale
Pure air and the bad air you get us exhale.
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You’re behind, boosting us and never rail
At our laze; on board, you are here to bale
Out any trouble that your smiles often veil.
For us, the wits of which you must avail
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Turn your painful sobs into a funny gale;
You succeed your feats where one can fail;
You manage everything where you prevail.
Your virtue’s sowed in every mount and dale.
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Its scent is so precious ,but not for sale!
You’re a spa of purity in the remotest vale;
We soon hasten up to you whenever we ail;
In drought, your gifts oft fall on us like hail;
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In cold, you can warm icy hearts and impale.
In stormy oceans, you are our saving whale;
In sleepless nights, our lulling nightingale.
You‘re the woman, the bliss and that it’ll entail.
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What would Adam have been without Eve’s ale;
How ‘d the stars gleam if the moon didn’t hail?
You are and remain the princess of a fairy tale,
We’ll be in need of your grace on a large scale.
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