Hear thou my lamentatïon,
Eros, Aphrodite's son!
My heart is broken and my days are done.
Where the woods are dark and the stream runs clear in the dark,
Eros!
I prayed to thy mother and planted the seeds of her flowers,
And smiled at the planting and wept at the planting. Oh, violets
Ye are dead and your whiteness, your sweetness, availed not. Thy mother
Is cruel. Her flowers lie dead at the steps of her altar,
Eros! Eros!
With a shining like silver they cut through the blue of the sky
Eros!
The dove's wings, the white doves I brought to thy mother in worship;
And I said, she will laugh for joy of my doves.
Oh, stillness
Of dead wings. She laughed not nor looked.
My doves are dead,
Are dead at the steps of her altar. Thy mother is cruel
Eros! Eros!
Hear thou my lamentatïon,
Eros, Aphrodite's son!
My heart is broken and my days are done.