The Hundred Verses of Amaru 1.60

1.60

sandaṣṭādharapallavā sacakitaṃ hastāgramādhunvatī
māmāmuñca śaṭheti kopavacanairānartitabhrūlatā |
śītkārāñcitalocanā sarabhasaṃ yaiścumbitā māninī
prāptaṃ tairamṛtaṃ mudhaiva mathito mūḍhaiḥ suraiḥ sāgaraḥ ||32||(36)

Her sprout-like lower lip bitten, shaking the tip of her hand in alarm, / dancing her creeper-like brows with angry words: “Don't touch me, you cunning lover!” / her eyes narrowed as she hisses with pleasure—those who have kissed an amorous petulant woman passionately / have truly gained the nectar of immortality; in vain was the ocean churned by foolish gods!