Irreverence in Verse
Author: Ragara Ikkyu
Description: A selection of poems written using classical style and Low Realm words, renowned for their frank vulgarity. Ragara Ikkyu was trained as an Immaculate Monk, rising to the position of headmaster at the Cloister of Wisdom. He resigned after nine days, denouncing the monks for hypocrisy and inviting them to argue their differences "in the whorehouses and sake parlours" where he could be found. He theorized that enlightenment in the Perfected Hierarchy was impossible if you sought it out directly, for such was the ultimate selfishness: minor indulgences were unimportant in the matter. Naturally, he was expelled from the clergy, given the nickname 'Crazy Cloud' by most Dynasts, and was invited to live in the Imperial Palace by the Empress because she enjoyed how he embarrassed both the Order and Ragara.
Downward Rising
Natural, reckless, correct skill;
Yesterday's clarity is today's stupidity
The universe has dark and light, entrust oneself to change
One time, shade the eyes and gaze afar at the road of heaven.
A Woman's Gate
It has the original mouth but remains wordless;
It is surrounded by a magnificent mound of hair.
Sentient beings can get completely lost in it
But it is also the birthplace of the Immaculate Dragons and all their Blessed.
A Man's Root
Eight inches strong, it is my favourite thing;
If I'm alone at night, I embrace it fully -
A beautiful woman hasn't touched it for ages.
Within my undergarments there is an entire universe!
Lady Tepet Mori's Gifted Touch
My hand is no match for that of Mori.
She is the unrivalled master of love play: When my jade stalk wilts, she can make it sprout!
How we enjoy our intimate little circle.
A Fisherman
Studying texts and stiff meditation can make you lose your mind.
A solitary tune by a fisherman, though, can be an invaluable treasure.
Dusk rain on the river, the moon peeking in and out of the clouds;
Elegant beyond words, he chants his songs night after night.
The Master of Love
My life has been devoted to love play;
I've no regrets about being tangled in red thread from head to foot,
Nor am I ashamed to have spent my days as a Crazy Cloud -
But I sure don't like this long, long bitter autumn of no good sex!
Face to Face with My Lover on the Day of Sextes Jylis
Monks recite the sutras in honour of the Wood Dragon,
their many voices cacophonous in my ear.
Afterward, making love, our intimate whispers
mock the empty formal discipline of others.
My Love's Dark Place Is Fragrant Like Narcissus
At midnight, your face in a dream brings a sigh.
Our first dance in the love pavilion was long ago and far away.
But like a blossom on the flowering plum,
Sweet narcissus blooms between your thighs.
