Engrossed in a reference book whilst preparing an essay on 11th century Andalusian poetry, I suddenly came accross a poem useful to quote and, instantaneously animated, kept my eyes locked to the page in fixed contemplation as my fingers rapidly and mechanically typed out the opening lines:
A full moon – a midday sun – a stem on a dune of sand – fragrant musk
But, looking up up at the document, I realized that instead of a delicate description of the beloved, I had unfortunately reduced her to:
A full moon – a midday sun – a stem on a dune of sand – fragrant muck
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