Classic Poem

We have seen a warrior who made the bangles of his women loosen
with their longing for him, women lovely as dolls wearing
their tiny bracelets in the mansion as elegant as a building depicted
in a painting. Now he bathes in a waterfall on a high mountain
overgrown with bamboo and dries the curling, matted hair that falls
low on his back, and the red fire, strong and raging,
fueled with wood brought in by forest elephants is what he yearns for.