Oh, belov'd butterfly, whose love doesn't tire, You, the gem that allows me to float on your sea, Oh, you, who uses those ears to soak up my food, My LOVE, enjoy my diastolic melody; Sit by me, immortal sanctity, we brood: Subsisting substance evoking its quire! Much gella -- indeed, raw fire, and sweet laughter; Love avoiding the ills of ugly hate, I opine because of you, sacred rapture... Cheering me with huzzahs, such pash, so great! Spare the vine and studs, my heart issues roses, Baby-boo, extra-true, how 'bout you, my DREAM! So serene, chartreuse green, soft gean, exposes, Only amor, in this resplendent dream.