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Her gaze, breaking through the coverings of her arm's ornaments, pours like pure nectar—untainted, charming, and intoxicating.
Her hand’s pride is challenged by her beloved’s touch—how can a mere tender sprout compete with such loveliness? A romantic metaphor.
Her ear-ornaments have defeated all other adornments in beauty. Her earrings themselves shine as the crown jewels.
Her beauty is so unparalleled that only her reflection in the mirror dares to resemble it—none else can match.
Her face, residence of love, is like the moon. And like the moon, her nose ornament adds beauty, and even the stars envy her presence.
Her lotus-like eyes, her pearly nose-tip, and her radiance resemble the pure beauty of a divine swan in celestial waters.
Her tightly-knotted hair, decorated with jasmine clusters, looks like a silver inscription of Kāma’s praise etched on golden parchment.
Her delicate feet, though small, surpass the grandeur of any tree sprouts. That’s why we call sprouting leaves “pallavas”—after her.
Her red-hued hands, dreamy eyes, and loosened hair suggest a night of passionate love; even the garland lies scattered as if exhausted.
As she sits on the seat, her moving hips, dangling hair, and bouncing breasts enact a dance of beauty and grace.
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