Here I find myself in this classroom, driving along the straight highways of your hair with no holes, enjoying the freshness in your air, heading for the emerald mines in those eyes, to collect the enigma of the gaze that never dies. My admiration runs down to your small lips, they look like cherry crops in spring, giving your oval face an ovation to harmony, and your slender body a degree in beauty perfection. That indescribable demeanor and elegance, that infinitude of those legs full of arrogance, that kapok tree representing your height, render men slaves of the countryside you abide. I resist coming back to academic life, I wish to continue exploring the hideouts of paradise.
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