The Beautiful Person (Sima Xiang-Ru)

This is my version of a prose-poem (so-called because it is part-prose, part-poem, or as the Chinese call it fu-style) by the Chinese poet Sima Xiang-Ru from the 2nd century B.C.. The poem is called The Beautiful Person. Click on the link to see the original literal translation, and also a short biography of the poet. As we shall see from the very first line, the poem is about himself, lol.
The Beautiful Person

Handsome Sima Xiang-Ru had journeyed to see the Prince who delighted in his conversation. But another had vilified him, saying to the Prince, “Indeed he is a fine figure of a man, but behind his elegant dress and noble features, his good looks conceal disloyalty and deceit, and he uses his fine rhetoric to flatter and fulfill his pleasure. I have seen him traipsing about in the harem of your Highness. I wonder if you have noticed this?” So the Prince asked Xiang-Ru, “Are you addicted to lust?” “I am not,” he replied. “Then you must be like Confucius and Mo Di,” said the Prince. But Xiang-Ru answered, “Those ancients avoided all acquaintance with sensual delights. Confucius and Mo Di would only have to hear the voice of a beauty from the palace walls, and they would turn their chariot around. It was as if they considered woman as dangerous as raging fire or deep water, and so they hid away and secluded themselves in mountain caves. Seeing as they saw no opportunity for temptation, how can we be sure of their mettle to withstand it?

Let me tell my story of how I withstood temptation’s chalice:
Once on my travels, I came upon a mansion as evening fell.
It was all alone in the clouds, shuttered like a fairy palace.
I pushed my way through the elegant front door having rung the bell.

Exotic perfumes hung in the air, and rich tapestries and there …
Reclining languid and charming on a bed, skin clear and cheeks red
The image of a lady waiting alone, curvacious and fair.
Seeing surprise, and hesitation in my step, she smiled and said:

“From what country do you come? Have you travelled far to reach this place?”
And she offered me wine, brought out a lute, and as I plucked the strings,
I played White Snow and Dark Orchid, and then she sang with mournful face,
“In solitude here, I am. This emptiness no happiness brings.

I long for the handsome prince who can lead me into sunlight’s glades
And in my sadness waiting, here he is! But how long he delays,
Till day becomes evening, alas, and my flower complexion fades.
To you I dare confide my body. Long may we share in lovers’ ways.”

She was so close that her jade hairpins brushed my hat, our clothes whispered.
The sun set in the West, mysterious dusk, light swallowed in darkness.
Outside cold silk snow swirled and from our closed room no sound could be heard,
Just the wind, sad and chill, that all the more increased invitingness.

A golden brazier breathed scented smoke, the bed was laid with fine sheets,
Its curtains lowered, quilt turned back, ivory pillow, all to a tee.
She stepped out of her robe, showing her undergarments’ lacy pleats,
That revealed her white delicate nakedness, her shapely beauty.

Then she came close to me, wrapping her softness, slipping around me,
But my heartbeat did not increase, my purpose steady in my breast.
As the Odes of old say, “clearly we were sworn in good faith to be”:
My resolution upright, without wavering, I wished her the best."