I am beautiful, though I'm not
white as a gull.
The hot
sun burnt my face and neck and back.
I am beautifully black.
I am blackly beautiful.
Black Kedar's tents made from the coat
of deep (not dull!)
black goat—
fine as hangings on Shlomo's rack.
I am beautifully black.
I am blackly beautiful.
My brothers' vineyards were my lot
to keep; I full
forgot
my own, beneath their whip's sharp crack.
I am beautifully black.
I am blackly beautiful.
Why should I cover with a coat,
or a veil pull
o'er throat
and face, with but an eye-crack.
I am beautifully black.
I am blackly beautiful.
With my black goats I'll seek your spot,
past the white skull
I'll trot,
following the white sheep's track.
I am beautifully black.
I am blackly beautiful.
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