I’m sitting here reading some erotic Chinese poems with the new Sunday sun shining through my window. Here is one written by ‘Master of Picking Flowers’. What a morning. Love, Susie x
To the tune of visiting spring
Spring light extends like an ocean,
Passion is thick like mud,
And since the weather is so warm
He spreads a flowery mat
To explore the heart of her flower,
Like a tired butterfly whose wings flutter in sleep.
Her hair hangs down slant in a green cloud;
Her gold hairpin has fallen out.
He teases the heart of her bud till it's drunk
With lush feelings.
Her scarf is totally soaked,
But not by the tears of longing.
Signed 'Master of picking flowers’