The Cane Groves of Narmada River: Erotic Poems from Old India
I've been reading (and re-reading, and re-reading) this book of translations by Andrew Schelling (probably more famous for being shacked up with Anne Waldman than anything). It's beautiful stuff, and has been inspiring me to write more simply (see Detroit Short Poems on the poetry board). I especially love the poems by a woman named Vidya, who may have lived as early as the seventh century! Really makes me think that poetry is a sort of universal language.
This one is my favorite of the moment:
I praise that silent
her whole body bristling--
only a poet
linking words with ineluctable cadence
her entrails with fire.