Classic Poem

Here his wife fetched the great wine cup and, approaching, offered it to him, singing:
Divine prince of eight thousand spears,
great ruler of our land,
because you are a man,
at every island point you row around,
at each and every shore point you row around
you must have a young-grass wife.
But look, because I am a woman,
I have no man besides you,
I have no husband besides you.
Under fluffy painted curtains,
under downy silken covers,
under rustling mulberry covers,
breasts youthful as soft snow,
arms white as mulberry rope —
hold them with your bare hands, caress them;
and, your hand and my hand for a pillow,
let us sleep, thighs outstretched.
Drink this superb wine.
She sang; then they were united through the cup and embraced each other around the neck. They remain so until today.