"cytherea" poems
Cytherea, thy dainty Adonis is dying!
Ah, what shall we do?
O Nymphs, let it echo, the voice of your crying,
The greenwood through!
O Forest-maidens, smite on the breast,
Rend ye the delicate-woven vest!
Let the wail ring wild and high:
'Ah for Adonis!' cry.
O Sappho, how canst thou chant the bliss
Of Kypris — after such day as this?
'Oh Adonis, thou leavest me — woe for my lot!
And Eros, my servant, availeth me not!'
So wails Cytherea, grief-distraught.
'Who shall console me for thee? There is none —
Not Ares my god-lover, passionate one
Who sware in his jealousy forth to hale
Hephaestus my spouse from his palace, if he
Dared but to lift his eyes unto me.
Not he can console me, Adonis, for thee!'
Wail for Adonis, wail!
4.4k
X. TO APHRODITE (6 lines)
(ll. 1-3) Of Cytherea, born in Cyprus, I will sing. She gives
kindly gifts to men: smiles are ever on her lovely face, and
lovely is the brightness that plays over it.
(ll. 4-6) Hail, goddess, queen of well-built Salamis and sea-girt
Cyprus; grant me a cheerful song. And now I will remember you
and another song also.
2.7k
Mingle with the genial bowl
The Rose, the ‘flow’ret’ of the Soul,
The Rose and Grape together quaff’d,
How doubly sweet will be the draught!
With Roses crown our jovial brows,
While every cheek with Laughter glows;
While Smiles and Songs, with Wine incite,
To wing our moments with Delight.
Rose by far the fairest birth,
Which Spring and Nature cull from Earth—
Rose whose sweetest perfume given,
Breathes our thoughts from Earth to Heaven.
Rose whom the Deities above,
From Jove to **** dearly love,
When Cytherea’s blooming Boy,
Flies lightly through the dance of Joy,
With him the Graces then combine,
And rosy wreaths their locks entwine.
Then will I sing divinely crown’d,
With dusky leaves my temples bound—
Lyæus! in thy bowers of pleasure,
I’ll wake a wildly thrilling measure.
There will my gentle Girl and I,
Along the mazes sportive fly,
Will bend before thy potent throne—
Rose, Wine, and Beauty, all my own.
2.6k
VI. TO APHRODITE (21 lines)
(ll. 1-18) I will sing of stately Aphrodite, gold-crowned and
beautiful, whose dominion is the walled cities of all sea-set
Cyprus. There the moist breath of the western wind wafted her
over the waves of the loud-moaning sea in soft foam, and there
the gold-filleted Hours welcomed her joyously. They clothed her
with heavenly garments: on her head they put a fine, well-wrought
crown of gold, and in her pierced ears they hung ornaments of
orichalc and precious gold, and adorned her with golden necklaces
over her soft neck and snow-white ******* jewels which the gold-
filleted Hours wear themselves whenever they go to their father's
house to join the lovely dances of the gods. And when they had
fully decked her, they brought her to the gods, who welcomed her
when they saw her, giving her their hands. Each one of them
prayed that he might lead her home to be his wedded wife, so
greatly were they amazed at the beauty of violet-crowned
Cytherea.
(ll. 19-21) Hail, sweetly-winning, coy-eyed goddess! Grant that
I may gain the victory in this contest, and order you my song.
And now I will remember you and another song also.
2.3k
My lips,
Listless letters without ledgers
Lie—
Loom—
Languish in light of eyes
That hang like Neptune,
Or fall like the Moon
Away.
Still, I remember
The yellow dogwood blossoms,
And what they told us.
Years later we died
Separately, together,
As drops in puddles.
Jupiter followed,
Dipping beneath the Sun’s light
With nothing but fear,
And Cytherea,
Boiling beneath her mask,
Fell into Hermes
While our children watched
With horror from their homes...
And Olympos sank into the sky.
Oct 21, 2012
Oct 21, 2012 at 11:11 PM UTC
The innocence of ****** has
been tainted by sheer
obscenity.
Aug 16, 2018
Aug 16, 2018 at 3:47 PM UTC
Beats echoed at night;
Spirit lifted from slumber.
She awakened me.
Oct 13, 2013
Oct 13, 2013 at 1:02 AM UTC