I once climbed down
From the mountain
Where I retired in
A snowbound hamlet.
I entered a town
At the foot of the mountain
To call on a fair
Of trade and entertainment.
Behind the fair fence
I ran across a flock
Of pretty young maidens —
Svelte and elegant,
They all had exquisite manners.
Their bracelets of gold,
Incised silver earrings,
Clothes of motley brocade
Were decorated with scarlet birds
And yellow chrysanthemums.
Their peachy faces
Resembled fairies and deities;
The fragrant bare necks
Implied the genteel aura
Of profusion,spreading fluids
In the sharp air full of flakes. . .
Young men of the times
All made eyes at them,
Exhaling desire.
Being longingly crazy
In the early springtime,
Unclean thoughts seized my mind.
I tried to justify myself,
Repeating, 'Lifetime is limited
And given only once.' However,
My instincts followed behind me
As the grey shadow of lust.
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Always,
Deborah
I would pose a riddle… If a young woman thinks the same way… Is that also an unclean thought?
Reminds me of the first time I saw Margret Ma. She was wearing a fine silk dress, the best her family's seamstress could make in Taipei. It seemed so formal and lovely for a student to wear on a college campus in Northwestern Wisconsin.
Ron