“In spring the quince trees ripen in the girls' holy orchard with river waters; and grapes turn violet under the shade of luxuriant leafage and newborn shoots. But for me, Eros knows no winter sleep, and as north winds burn down from Thrace with searing lighting, Kypris mutilates my heart with black and baleful love.” Willis BarnstoneAphroditeIbykos Author:Ibykos
“Even now Eros looks at me with tenderness from under dark eyelids, and casts me spellbound into Aphrodite's nets where I lie caught inextricably, for I swear his mere approach makes me tremble like an old champion chariot horse, as he draws a swift cart unwillingly to the race.” Willis BarnstoneAphroditeIbykos Author:Ibykos