Classic Poem

Akananuru 16

His palms spotless
as the petal
at the pollen center
of lotuses
that grow in old waters
where otters play,

his mouth lovely as coral,
making sweet baby talk
not yet uttered by tongue,
he makes everyone laugh.

Enchanting everyone,
he was playing alone in the street
with his toy chariot,
our son wearing gold ornaments —

when that woman of yours,
burdened with gold,
teeth sharp and lovely,
seeing your likeness in him,
thinking there was no one watching,
bent down happily
and called out to him,
" Come here, my love! "
and clasped him to her young breasts
borne down with necklaces.

Seeing her,
I couldn't move
but when she turned to me,
I held her close and I said,

" You young innocent,
don't be shy.
You too are a mother to him. "

Her face fell
as one confessing a theft;
she stood scratching the ground
with her toenails.

Looking at her state,
didn't I too love her then,
thinking

" She's like the powerful goddess in the sky,
goddess of chaste wives,
and fit to be mother to your son? "