Those gates of untold bliss bid me enter in,
This place stirs the animal under my skin,
Dark and venerated, sacred to our race,
A warm and pleasing lovely inner-space,
Forged in this kiln is every living soul,
Such a small vessel makes one in whole.
Like a sentinel guarding a treasure,
Those gates hold a wave of pleasure,
When the tiger pounces on the lotus flower,
Growling at the darling bud of water,
The cat is no longer the thane in power,
Howling in the throes and joys is in order.
Beauteous petals can subdue the wild,
A soft caress, a sensual touch, so mild,
A tiny seed is sown, perhaps a love grown,
Just a speck alone, a little life shown,
Bane and boon to this noble clan,
Brave tiger leaves across the land.
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