They danced before each other in swift and fleeting movement; they always seemed to wish to touch each other, but never touched, unless it be their lips.
When they turned their backs in the mazes of the dance, and looked at one another, head on shoulder, the perspiration glistened 'neath their high-uplifted arms, and their fine-spun tresses swished before their breasts.
The languor of their eyes, the fire in their cheeks and the serious expression of their faces, seemed three ardent songs all sung at once. They brushed against each other furtively, they bent their swaying bodies at the hip.
And suddenly they fell, to consummate their tender dance upon the earth. . . Memory of Mnasidika, it was then that you appeared to me, and everything except your dear sweet image was annoying.