DORA

The pale ivory, polished and beautiful,
its forehead does not have whiteness,
nor the rose of Lima hers beauty,
nor the regal swan hers nervous neck.

Nor the red sun the vivid flash
that in her languid glance flashes,
when in her mind is portrayed pure
the cascade of light from her hair.

The dove does not have her innocence,
nor the kind jasmine the warm essence
with which she perfumes her fiery mouth.

Greek marble does not have her silhouette,
nor her lover complains of her voice the prayer...
Not even her adorable stupidity the rock!