Classic Poem

O spirit of Venus whom I adore,
Whose body is perfect, quite without flaw,
He will protect you who stars and the shore,
The sun and the ocean rules evermore.
You shall be saved from the Furies' shrill roar,
And the Fates have promised you richest store.

Boy, I do not hail you rhetorically,
And I pray to the Fates respectfully
That those three sisters watch protectingly,
Though thou hast the sea gods abetting thee
While crossing the waves. Unforgetfully
I love and feel your loss affectingly.

He who made men and in the old earth's bones
Found his material (the hardest stones)
He made this boy who causes all my groans,
Who stands unmoved while listening to my moans.
This perfect boy my hated rival owns.
A stricken deer, I seek the forest zones.