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lack curls they made into fair straw.
Golden as sunshine, this child of a god;
But if in my day you saw my locks of
Raven, to the ends of the earth
You would follow me.

olden Elene, they called me:
Not for my hair, but for my skin.
You would see me walking like a torch -
The brightest thing in a dark corridor,
And you would follow me.

nd how could the Trojan have seen me,
In the golden apple, if not
my cheeks were that same hue.
My eyes, black as olives, watch you.
What can you do but follow me?

oman of Lacedaemon, born by the river,
Daughter of Zeus, or so they said.
Sons of man would watch me bathe,
The child of ebony and gold.
Their desire made them follow me.

Poem by Adeia.

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The Last Trojan - Out of Print

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Adeia Eurydike

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The Last Trojan - Out of Print

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Best Face that Launched a Thousand Ships
Aug 28, 2009 05:47 pm

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