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Her tear-soaked cheeks silently deliver a message of heartbreak. Though she says nothing, her gaze upon the path speaks of a thousand emotions.
In forest paths filled with pollen and nectar, thirsty bees chase the sweat-scented thighs of female birds, creating scenes of love's urgency.
Her tears, hot from the flames of love’s fire, turn the land before her into muddy terrain, as if trying to compete with her sorrow.
As she walks, one of her breasts constantly touches his chest, creating a rhythmic play of motion akin to a ball game on his chest.
With blossoming fruit groves and fragrant winds, the frost reluctantly yields to an unseasonal spring — a poetic inversion of time.
I bow to Kamesha (Shiva), the fulfiller of desires, whose cheeks are served by swarms of bees intoxicated by the constant flow of nectar.
May the elephant-faced god (Ganesha), whose cheeks are bathed in madhu (nectar) and who destroys all obstacles, bless you with endless auspiciousness.
Immersed fully in a torrential stream like a bound elephant, the divine being appears soaked, as though drenched in a dense shower of ambrosia.
With constant drips of musth juice, bees nestled in its ears, and new tusks growing, the victorious elephant shines like youthful pride.
With wildly swaying clouds and fragrant winds, the season changes suddenly — signaling that women whose husbands are travelers now suffer again.
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