I descend from my chariot of glittering moonlight,

And land upon the soft green grass

In the dark night, my chariot stood out, not to be unnoticed,

But his eyes didn’t open fast.



He, was a mere shepherd, fast asleep on the crest of the hill,

His sheep were grazing in the open sky

He was unlike any other mortal I had seen so far,

His cheeks flushed rosy red, I saw as I walked by.



I stared at him, long and good

Analysing his nature, his dignity

I wanted to see this creation by the other gods,

Whether or not he could stand my divinity.



The night was racing with the wind,

And soon it was over, welcoming the day.

My brother’s turn to rise, I couldn’t stay.

I mounted my carriage and went away.



But I didn’t forget him; I came back the other night.

I saw him again, much to my delight

But little did I know, I was neglecting my duties,

And arousing suspicion of the other deities.



And soon my beloved had to face Zeus’s wrath,

He had to choose death or immortality in perpetual dreamy sleep.

Endymion could now forever dream.

Of unicorns and fairies, and of course me.



And now I visit him every night,

On a hilltop on Mt. Atmore.

As he lay, sleeping and dreaming,

And I, his mourner, weeping.