Throw his bow to the deep river, and
Relieve the arrow's flights
From virgin Eros, wings bound.
And take the youth of Aphrodite
Before her hips have chance to widen,
Before she has escaped that sea.
Silenced before truth can smile-
As the flower never blooms
With no sweet bee to kiss it.
Ah, darling. Never fear,
For only in death
Is love kept pure.
