To spring departed

You said to initiate you
into the triangle of love –
the red of the poppy,
the yellow of daisy
and chamomile white;

but by morning
they’d turned the field
and Persephone had
found herself in Hades.

What urgency
drove those profane men,
what cynicism,
to hide so mindlessly
such abundant love,
such beauty?

“Strike them down,
Magnificent Zeus, with you thunderbolt!”
you cried. At once
we became shadows
ourselves, one to the other.

Translation: Stephen Gee