Repetitions Third Series

Artemis

The Goddess looks immensely sad, despite all her glory;

sad and often ill-tempered Callisto seemed — what is she

missing? her many temples over the lands shine, in harbors,

forests and in the cities; for her wreaths Hippolytus gathers

flowers from fields where animals don’t graze, where only

the buzz of holy bees is heard; newlyweds offer her their

exquisite belts and the braids of their hair. Poets tirelessly

compose the most elegant words for her name.

                                                                           Why then

this sad face and anger and the unjustified punishments

of Aloadae, of Actaeon, Orion, Bufagos and the ill-fated

Niobe?

         Perhaps Adonis would have something to say about it

if he hadn’t succumbed to the wounds the wild boar inflicted

on him, and perhaps the sixty nymphs who bathed in the river

with her might know something or they heard what Potnia of

Theron whispered in her sleep during the summer nights, as

she lay down, supine, alone in her bed; and her spread knees

out of the bed-sheets gleam like lilies under the moonlight.