With her every thought, in the fullness of her heart

Clinging to you, completely lost.

Poor girl, how Venus felled her with never-ending grief,

Sowing thorny worries in her heart

From the moment Theseus determined

A departure from the port of Piraeus on Athens’ arced shore

And reached the palace of the unjust king of Crete.

For they say that Athens, plagued by damnation

To pay the penalty for the murder of Androgeos,

Would at one time provide its pick of youths

And glory of maidens as a feast for the Minotaur.

The fledgling city was suffering the consequences

When Theseus chose to yield his own body

For precious Athens so the living dead of Cecrops

Should not be carried to such deaths in Crete.

And so he put his trust in a light ship and gentle breeze

And came before haughty Minos

And his magnificent enclosure.

The moment the virgin princess clapped her

Widening eyes upon him –

Her pure little bed was still protecting her in a soft

And motherly embrace, breathing sweetly

Over her the flagrant breath

Of myrtle such as the River Eurotas puts forth

Or the breeze spring plucks from flowers of many colours –

And averted her hot eyes from him only when

Her whole body had caught the flame of love

And she burned deep inside to the depths of her marrow.

Wretchedly rousing passions in his cruel heart,

Divine Cupid, weaver of joys with worries among men,

And Venus, ruler of the Golgians and leafy Idalium.

On what waves you inflamed the girl, threw her

From her wits, as she sighed for her fair guest

With breath upon breath.

How huge the fears she carried in her wearied heart.

How many times she paled beyond gleaming gold,

When putting his mind to conquering the savage monster

Theseus sought either death or the fruits of glory.

Promising little gifts to the gods that were not unwelcome

But futile nonetheless, she mouthed vows silently.

Like an oak tree or cone-bearing pine with seeping bark

Shaking its branches on the heights of Mount Taurus

Whose twisting trunk a storm uproots in a flash –

And the tree, torn from the roots,

Falls prostrate and far

Breaking whatever lies in its broad path –

So Theseus laid the beast low, conquering its force

While it tossed its horns ineffectually to the empty breeze.

From there and high on glory the stranger retraced his path,

Steering his wandering course with the delicate thread

So the deception of the enclosure should not defeat him

As he departed from meandering turns of the labyrinth.

But come, I digress from my primary song,

Recollecting further how the girl departed

From the face of her father, the embrace of her sister,

And finally her mother, who tried wretchedly

To feel happy for her lost daughter, who put above

Them all her sweet love for Theseus;

Or how she came to the foaming shore of Naxos

By boat; or how her partner abandoned her as she