Woman Bathing in a Fountain

Once I followed a path through a wood
That led to an open garden
Where rows of hedges and flowers grew
Most radiant in the morning.
There in a field in a fountain pool
Where water flowed from a lion’s mouth,
I beheld a woman standing nude
Washing her body with a bar of soap.
Her eyes were darker than the cavernous seas,
And her hair was just as black.
Her body was white as the autumn moon
And her lips were crimson red.
She covered her body in lustrous green soap
And her head she held beneath the spout.
She sang a song about children playing
And her breasts were supple and taut.
She washed the space behind her knee
Bending over and gently lifting her leg.
She exposed her little delicate foot—
Her toes were painted a crimson red.
I admired the glistening light on her buttocks
Which was round and full and plump.
She washed the space between her legs
Where hair grew thick and dark.
I stood behind a tree and watched
But then the sound of children was heard.
She looked up, startled, and saw my face,
And coyly covered her private parts.
I blushed to my toes and turned away,
And made my way back through the woods.
All that day I felt a tinge of guilt,
But that night I lay in bed and smiled.
Perhaps she was a goddess, I thought,
Who had desired to experience the thrill of risk.
And since I had been the one who had caught her,
With her memory I’d be forever blessed.
And yet somehow I felt something was tarnished—
Some things are too beautiful to be seen.
A goddess washing herself in a fountain
Is a sight which no man can redeem.