Princess Yum-yum rides in state,
her elephants five abreast.
They leap and dance in synchrony.
Musicians skirl a harmony.
A thousand feathers caress the air,
children leaping everywhere.
The palm trees calmly wait.

The princess herself reclines at rest
in a howdah way up high.
Her ribbons sing. The music brings
a tear to an elephant's eye.
She strokes the air, and her languid hand
shivers the air like a cat.
She's jeweled and festooned,
and lilac-silk-pantalooned,
and gorgeously, wonderfully fat.

From her larkspur eyes and her hennaed hair
down to her waist her body is bare,
except for the butterflies touching down there
and swirling away again into the air.
Her belly and breasts and arms are cream.
Her smile is something once seen in a dream
and never forgotten.
Banners and flags, confetti, balloons,
jugglers, full orchestras, druids in flight,
fireworks, dancing girls, stilt-men, buffoons,
the procession spreads joy far into the night,
and then they all dance by the bonfire's light,
and sleep and make love by the light of the moon.

The Princess Yum-yum sleeps in state.
One hand's off the edge of her pillow.
Her silk pavilion with silver threads
blooms by the weeping willow.
The moonlight seduces the night-blooming flowers.
Their perfume suffuses the silvery hours.
Tiny bells on branches ring.
The princess spreads her dreams like wings.
Ans blessings descend in showers.

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