[A poem about love between mother and child]

A true man, a valiant seven-foot-tall hero.

He had read the books of ancient sages, yet knew nothing of beauty like gold or jade.

A preordained marriage, he glimpsed his naked mother, and was instantly awestruck by her divine beauty.

Her delicate eyebrows and graceful face blushed with shyness, her bright eyes sparkling with autumn waves.

In the past, fragrant breezes accompanied this beauty, and princes and nobles followed in her footsteps.

Her soft jade transformed into a sacred peak, her willow branches swaying in the wind.

The lush forest and grasses further concealed the secluded paths.

The beauty stood gracefully, like jade, even the clouds and rain of Wushan bowed before her. He

longed for her in his sleep, yearning to be like King Xiang, ready to embrace her.

In dreams, they entwined in tender embrace, but upon waking, their love was like a reflection in the mirror or the moon's reflection in water. He wandered aimlessly,

lost in endless thoughts, his clothes growing looser and his form fading away.

Suddenly, I heard of a fairy mountain overseas, where immortals concocted an aphrodisiac.

Virtuous women and martyrs vied to undress, even the legendary heroines and goddesses loosened their waists.

After three days of planning and deliberation, they vowed to ensnare the beautiful mother's jade gate.

The poor mother, unaware of her own desire, entered the aphrodisiac, her eyes blurred.

Shyly, her cheeks flushed, her neck arched like clouds, her head drooping as if about to fall asleep.

The red phoenix star moved, the purple clouds parted, and at midnight, the fragrance wafted as the unicorn arrived.

They released the mother's silken curtains, her saliva already flowing like a thousand feet.

First, they removed her silken robes and lace skirt, then her stockings and bra.

With cherry-red lips, she explored the secluded places slowly.

They surveyed the fragrant forests and verdant grasses, lingering in the secluded valleys and admiring the flower-filled chambers.

The fresh, red lips of the clam were tempting, hidden by spring grass on either side.

A babbling brook flows, its waters soaking the jade pot's delicate, winding path.

Parting the labia, she enters the humble gate; the child's entry into the mother's cave is most intoxicating.

The old Guanyin, unpredictable in her movements, leaps and bounds busily into the cave.

Nine in, ten out, she plays with the flower's heart; a single night, a thousand years, is not long enough.

How much passion is ignited in one night of romance, the warm hibiscus tent spent in spring.

Alas, the spring night is too short; the morning clouds accompany the mother as she awakens.

The mother awakens, a sob rising in sorrow, weeping uncontrollably in a corner.

The boy, hearing her cries, feels as if cut by a knife; they look at each other, their eyes filled with tears.

She says her beloved son loves his loving mother; their passion has lasted for more than three or five days.

The mother refutes her son's words, saying that a son's adultery with his mother is immoral.

The son says, "We came from the immortal's cave; what's wrong with exploring the secluded path again

?" Besides, the strict father is rarely home; rumors say the mistress is not old.

The beloved child feels his mother's distress, why should he endure loneliness for his father?

Knowing that worldly pleasures are few, he must sing spring songs every night. The joys

of men and women are a matter of a hundred years, let posterity judge.

The loving mother remains silent, her lonely face weeping without a sound.

The son embraces his mother tenderly, whispering his heart's desire in the embroidered curtains.

The rare flowers and jade herbs lament their lonely existence, mother and son silent as the wind carries falling petals.

Ten days of spring light flash by, willows and flowers confirm their vow.

In leisure, the beauty opens her jade lips, rearranging the quilt to sleep in the spring breeze.

The spring breeze rises at midnight, the jade pestle touches the door, the jade gate damp.

Half-forced, half-coerced, she seeks pleasure from her son, half-reluctant, half-willing, the beautiful mature woman.

The embroidered curtains and silken veils conceal the candlelight, mother and son reunite in the deep joy of spring.

Embroidered stockings and red makeup invite favor, offering alluring flesh illuminated by lamplight.

Whispers and murmurs of pleasure arise, teasing lips explore the vulva.

Clouds and rain fall in the jade chamber, understanding words and delicate flowers reveal her radiant beauty.

The young boy gallops at midnight, the loving mother chants the fifth watch bell. A fresh clam holds

a pearl, exhaling fragrant dew, a jade pot flows with subtle fragrance.

Playing with rain and clouds is true pleasure, 　　man and woman's love is doubly tender. Together we journey to the immortal realm of Penglai, together we wander through the mortal world for many springs. ********** ... Sometimes I wonder if it's possible to find a place where no one knows us, where we can freely marry and live —I call it paradise. However, living means bearing responsibilities, and that's just an unattainable dream. A while ago, I broke up with the person my aunt introduced me to. It's not that I disliked her, but my heart can only hold my mother; there's no room for any other woman. 　　Finally, I'll attach a poem by Bai Juyi: "Flowers are not flowers, mist is not mist, coming at midnight, leaving at dawn. Coming like a , how fleeting; going like morning clouds, nowhere to be found." This is to express my thoughts, and I wish all loving mothers and children in the world will eventually be united. ********** 　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　...

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[A poem about love between mother and child]

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