I am in love with two women:
one is dark, the other’s white
one is married, the other unmarried –
one is one of my childhood friends,
the other the wife
of a friend I adored in college life.
I love the two – ah! both of them –
neither the less, neither the more;
if I looked at one with right side eye
my left eye would soon search the other;
if with left nostril I smelt one’s fragrance,
the right one will soon pine for the other –
I love them alike – they love me too
and neither knows
that I love the other!
I love two women, dark and white –
one rules my heart, the other my mind
one makes me sing, the other write;
one kindles my body with the fire
of her passion, while the other
stirs my soul with her love’s ardour.
They say you can never think of
two women at a time:
so I think of one in the morning
and the other one at night.
And they say you can never make love
to two women at a time;
so I meet one at her home
and the other one at mine!
But I cannot marry, ah! both of them
at one time, and neither
can marry both one after the other,
nor can I be ever happy
marrying either and forgetting the other
and so I have decided to marry
none, none, none at all.
They say he is the luckiest man
who has in his heart two women;
nobody can be unluckier than me:
I am always in love
with two women.
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