Romance by George Orwell
When I was young and had no sense,
In far off Mandalay
I lost my heart to a Burmese girl
As lovely as the day.
Her skin was gold, her hair was jet,
Her teeth were ivory;
I said “For twenty silver pieces,
Maiden sleep with me.”
She looked at me, so pure, so sad,
The loveliest thing alive,
And in her lisping virgin voice,
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