BIRTH OF VENUS

She rose from the sea foam,
bathed in brightness.
Like David,
swinging iron and strumming on a lyre,
I wooed her who would not be won.

Then forth from the pit came a lame man,
ugly as death,
to see what all the clamor was about.

Together we beheld her
as she walked in a garden,
he on one side, I on the other.

I tried to overshadow him.
O, but he was clever!
Dropping his treasures down in a heap,
he lifted up a shield.

With its mirror, he drew her to him.