How can I sieze 
the power of this man
now blinded by a body--
O the King himself invites me to my downfall,
in my father's garden--
how shall I hold from going
when my belly melts, 
warm honey at his glance?
And though I shall not stop him,
though I lack all will to turn away,
though I cannot halt in this descent,
nor shall I go alone.

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