#to think that the javanese were the first ones to write smutty fanfics smh

[givemequartzplz]

Translation of the Barathayudha Kakawin (some kind of javanese poem) Chapter 1 part V

Part V

(Part summary by me: implied lesbian sex)

The beauty of the moon is pristine, as it radiated light and decorated the inside of the queens’ palace. As time went on, there was nothing that could be compared to the beauty of the golden house that sparkles in the sky. And that was also the case with the jeweled curtains, that were sewn like the flowers inside the cloths. That is the place of the queen Bhanumati when she sleeps with king Suyodhana. 

On the west side from this palace and close to the location, there is a garden that was decorated with the halls made of gold. The stones on the yard sparkes and looked clear, because they were mixed with pearls. The fences of the walls that surrounded it was made of the widuri stone, a blue jewel and red jewel that sparkles. The jewelries in the gates sparkled, while the statues shone as bright as suryakanta (sun stone).

In that place beautiful women were playing beneath the shine of the moon (sometimes) looking up to see its beauty. Such were the beauty of these women in that palace, as if they are the words in a beautiful poem. Everything that they do gave rise to the feeling of love and lust, because they were filled with beauty, as if they are the sweetness of a mangosteen that was scooped with a spoon made of pudak flower, and on top of it was written with songs.  

The scenery was beautiful because of those who whispered while playing under the shine of the moon. One of the women was shot by cupid’s arrow (TL note: it actually says the arrow of romance) and it is said that she is trying to find the feeling of love. There is a slave woman who sneaked in because she was interested by this feeling of love and uttered the words that evoke love. She was pretending to whisper to constantly whisper the amorous screams of people.

There were also women who slept in rown and placed their thighs on top of each others’; they were playfully hugging each other. With that, they felt the fantasy from the women who felt the highest form of love. But they placed their thighs one on top of the other not just for that reason; no, they have other reasons as well. This is so that their fantasy (can become much closer to reality) while they are flirting while singing somber songs. 

There are other women that were shot by the arrow of god Kama and they retreated to the Wungu tree. They closed their eyes, while another slave woman massaged their tired feet to give her pleasure. They can also be heard singing a letter of their lover that was filled with their love. And thus, their hearts were shattered like glass that fell on top of a rock. 

It is not just one, the game that they were playing, for there are within them, those who were playing the musical instruments under the light of the moon. But the moon deliberately dimmed its light, as if an oil lamp extinguished by someone who had stolen their hearts. The darkness engulfed equally everywhere, so that the outside looked as dark as a room that is used for the highest form of love. Only the stars can be seen sparkling, as if they were the eyes of the people who felt pain from loving, and so it did not look pleasant to see.

During midnight, the place became quiet; beautiful was the sound of the songs from the priests; as if they are bees that followed the falling flower from the hair-bun of someone who just finished making love. Melodic was the sound of the bells that were chiming alongside with the constant victories, and that this was touching, as if it is a song that was chosen from a section to entertain a girl who bled (during her first sex) and hugged by her husband.

The night was late, as if it was the thought of somebody who decided to sever their love, not looking at their lover. The stars became a sign of time to those people who were stealing hearts were visible in appearance. The hammer being hit was the secret sign for those who were coming to pounce on their love, but did not want to leave. The sound of the rooster can be heard like the the passionate moans of a woman in love.