BY TORSTEN SCHWANKE
CANTO I
I
There was a lord in Syria, king he
And pagan, who worshipped the gods,
The All-Queen and Adonis,
Who yearly suffered death,
For when Adonis died in the autumn season,
Then red blood flowed from Mount Lebanon
To Syria and all saw
Streams of the god's crimson blood.
And when Adonis died his death and was
Murdered by the boar, he lay in the grave,
Then all the wailing women howled,
Beat their breasts in mourning
And tussled their glorious black hair
And so they wept for their dead god,
But Adonis is risen,
Verily, he is risen from death!
He went to heaven alive
And celebrated the holy wedding there
With our queen Astarte,
Who reigned on the planet Venus.
Now the king of Syria honoured
Adonis and the queen, our lady,
The beautiful divine Astarte,
Who was the queen of love.
The king already had a son when he
After his first wife's passing
Into the realm of eternity
Took a new wife, young as blood.
And this new wife's name was
Miss Stratonica. The woman was beautiful,
She had long black hair,
A curly and wild mane,
Eyes bright as the evening star,
Her lips a string of pearls rose-red,
Her breasts were like round grapes
And a cup of wine her pelvis.
II
The prince, the son of the father and king, was
In love with his stepmother, was in love with
Stratonica, the wife secretly, but
Deeply in love and with all his heart.
After all, he saw her every day and
What can nourish passionate love so
As seeing her every day
And even when the night drew near?
He saw the beautiful stepmother every day
At the midday table, when she took the spoon
Full of honey in her mouth and licked
The golden honey from the silver spoon.
He saw her greeting her husband beautifully,
When he came from the office of his government,
When husband and wife kiss,
Tenderly and chastely on the cheeks kiss.
He saw the beautiful stepmother, too,
When she rose from her bed early in the morning
And then with sleep-addled hair
Standing there in a lovely light nightgown.
He saw the beautiful stepmother, too, when she was
In the bath, washing her naked body,
He saw her through the veil curtain,
Naked, but veiled by the hot steam.
There his passion burned fiery
And yet he tried to hide that passion
From Stratonica,
For she was, after all, his father's wife.
But as the proverb of the Orient says:
In a coat pocket it is easier
To hide a hot coal,
Than to hide secret love.
In his stepmother's garden there bloomed
The iris with the snow-white calyx and with
The violet spots of colour,
The nectar on the pistil was tempting,
This symbol of secret love, is
The secret lover's symbol and so
The prince gave Stratonica an
Iris from her Adonis-garden.
III
Now from the unsatisfied love
The prince was quite ill. He could no longer sleep
And sat all night long crying,
Crying alone on his couch.
He no longer wanted to eat or drink anything,
But only the vast quantities of red wine at night
And fasted and his weakness
Brought him near to fainting.
As he appeared before his stepmother
Silent, the fair one knew not,
What made him so sick and troubled
What so cruelly tore his heart.
The friends of this suffering prince now
Like those friends of Job in God's book
Came with many a foolish counsel,
Yes, they almost mocked the prince.
One of them said: If lust troubles you,
Go to the top of Lebanon and
There roll yourself in the snow, in the cold,
Then the sting of the flesh will be melted.
If you do not want to go to Mount Lebanon
To bathe thyself in the masses of snow, but wilt
Heal thyself in Syria,
Roll thy body in nettles.
Another friend heard from the poor man,
The prince, that he wept all night.
Then said he, Weepest thou many tears?
Thou hast no liquid in thy body,
Then make thee a spicy soup
And drink thy liquid soup often,
Or else thy body will dry up,
If you have to cry so many tears.
A priest said, Turn to the doctor,
I can't help you. He honours the gods,
Who honours the physician in his afflictions.
Hail to thee, may bless thee Lord Adonis!
So this prince finally knew no more,
Who could deliver him from his plight.
The red lips of Stratonica,
That wounded him, alone could help!
IV
So the physician came to the king's house
And carefully examined his son.
Why was his breath so weak?
Why was he so close to fainting?
The physician took the pulse of the sick man
And listened to his lungs,
He saw the bile and the kidneys,
Carefully he examined the liver.
He took blood from the patient into a small glass
And also examined the urine, but
It was not a physical ailment,
Which brought him near to death.
The doctor was also a soul doctor, of such a kind,
That he asked the sick man about his dreams,
He examined his dreams,
He interpreted them all according to the dream book.
So once our wretched prince dreamed,
That an iris's flower-stalk was in a crystal vase.
In a crystal vase, a round,
A bellied vase, and there shone.
So our wretched prince once dreamed,
That a jewel of oblong form was in
The deep chalice of the iris-flower.
All was understood by this physician of the soul.
My dear prince, said the physician of the soul,
Of bodily ailments I find nothing,
Except for the liver,
Because you have drunk too much red wine.
Also I am full of worry, because too short
Thy sleep is in the nights, thou shouldst lie long
In your bed, you should lie long,
Sleep cures the most violent sorrow of soul.
But I am of the sure opinion that
You are sick with love passion and that
My drugs will not help thee,
Because your drug is a beautiful woman.
I'm just saying, in my experience,
The great quantity of purple wine is not
Fit to really comfort you,
Crimson wine makes you melancholy.
V
Now to find out in whom the prince
Immortal and unhappy was in love full of pain,
The doctor left him in the sickbed
In the palace of the king.
The wise doctor suspected that the prince was in love
With a lady of this palace,
In love with the gloomiest of lovesicknesses,
Therefore the physician called all the ladies.
Now this physician laid his right hand
On the prince's heart, felt the heartbeat thus,
Let pass by the prince
All the ladies from the palace,
All the king's concubines and
The maids all, the young girls
And pretty and nice and rather cute,
All did not touch the prince's heart.
The seeress who told fortunes by lot,
The priestess of the goddess Astarte and
The wise ladies of the court,
All did not touch the prince's heart.
The young eighteen-year-old girls did not,
Nor the fourteen-year-old boys,
Not the philosophical hetaeras,
All did not touch the prince's heart.
But when Stratonica entered, the queen
And housewife in the king's palace, there
The prince's heart began to race,
His heart leapt in his manly bosom.
Then his heart flew and leapt up out of rhythm
And from the feverish heat of passion
The heart in his bosom was like thunder,
Drumming loudly like the thunder hammer!
Then the cunning doctor knew by whom
Enchanted was the prince, sated with misery, who
Stole his life's spirit,
Which mistress had almost murdered him.
The doctor, full of curiosity, looked at the queen
And thought, This woman holds the fate
Of the prince in love in her hands,
She holds the fate of death and life.
VI
Then the physician spoke this word to the king,
This word about his royal son who lay in bed,
Lying there with his lovesickness
And almost breathed his last breath,
My lord and my master! The king's son
Suffers no bodily infirmity,
He suffers the sorrow of love,
Sick is his spirit from the sickness of love.
And because the soul is the form of the body,
So when the soul suffers from the pain of love,
So will the body fall ill,
Faintness is near and even early death!
I will say quite honestly the opinion of the
Doctor: If the King's son does not find
Satisfaction in love,
He will leave the world too soon.
I have found out whom your son
So full of unhappiness loves, O my Lord and God,
It is the wife of your physician,
Yea, my own wife, the gentle one.
Now when I think that my own wife,
The gentlest, most charming creature herself,
The lily with the deep chalice,
Should be the cause of his untimely death,
It breaks my heart in my man's breast.
And yet I love my charming wife,
The mother of my two daughters,
How can I lose her?
My king, when my wife hears the music,
To which a girl loves to dance belly dance,
She moves her slender limbs beautifully,
Gracefully, beautifully she moves her hips.
And when she is tired early in the evening,
She promises a love embrace still
In bed to her husband.
This lady now loves your prince and darling.
If I don't give him my wife, he'll die of heartbreak,
He'll die of lovesickness and
I will be to blame for his death!
O what does my Lord and King command?
VII
Now the king said to the wise physician,
I pray thee, give the king's son
Your gentle wife in marriage,
Save my son from death!
A man is happy when he can enjoy a wife
In bed at night, a woman he can trust,
By all the works of Astarte,
That makes this life worth living,
But virtue is higher still with the gods.
And Lord Adonis said this wise word,
This is the greatest love of man,
When a man sacrifices himself for his friend!
So I beseech thee, save my son
And give him your gentle, charming wife,
Or else he'll be consumed with lust,
All his life's spirit flies and he must die!
I ask no sacrifice of thee, man,
That I would not be willing myself to make.
So lovely my Stratonica,
He'd be in love with my lovely wife,
I would give her to him, though with great regret,
For none is so lovely and so coquettish,
Is as erotic as Astarte,
Oh, to think of it, my dear!
She said yesterday that
She didn't have the right clothes,
She just wanted to stay home,
She had no precious dress to wear.
I said, Beloved wife, above all things,
In your lord and king's palace you need
No dress, no jewellery, no make-up,
As the gods made thee, naked,
Thou art always welcome in my chamber.
Else the wise ladies are so prudish, alas,
Withered old date figs,
Philosophizing cypresses,
The young girls are as chaste as snow!
But when Stratonica the king's son
Desired with deadly desire,
I would give her to the king's son.
VIII
Then the wise physician said this to the king,
I have lied to you, my Lord and God,
For your king's son does not desire
My charming and gentle wife,
She would be too charming and gentle and chaste for him,
Rather, he loves the lovely and erotic
Stratonica,
Your bed-mate in the work of Astarte.
Now do what pity bids you, my lord,
And give him your sexy, very sexy wife
To be his playmate, behold,
Or else he must die the death of love!
The king with a heart full of mercy
And love for the prince, the darling, called
The beautiful Stratonica,
Summoned also the prince who was sick to death
And said to the deathly sick prince and
To the lovely erotic wife,
I divorce Stratonica,
Goddess Astarte wants this divorce!
I give my lovely erotic wife
To my son, the prince who
With infernal desire fiery
Desires my consort in his madness.
Thou, Stratonica, lovely-erotic,
You make my beloved son happy!
I resign my office,
Yes, I leave the king's palace.
The prince, when he recovers from near death,
If my sweet wife raise him up,
He shall be king in Syria,
Queen with him shall be Stratonica.
And Stratonica joked, My lord husband,
At your age, little desirable,
I love the father in the son,
Give all of me to the king's son.
The prince cried, Risen from death
I am like God Adonis, and now I celebrate
The Hieros Gamos with the Lady,
Goddess Astarte, Stratonica!
CANTO II
I
As Stratonica lay in her bed at night,
Her body was asleep, but her soul was awake.
The dreams are memories,
They are mixed with the fantasies.
But sometimes gods speak to us in dreams.
So Stratonica dreamed the dream of the night,
Then she saw before her a goddess,
Her mighty, sublime breasts magnificent,
The great goddess appeared to her naked
And spoke to Stratonica in the dream this word,
I am the great goddess of love,
The Syrian goddess you shall call me.
My name is Atargatis in Syria
And at the same time I am the goddess Derketo and
In Canaan I am the goddess
Asherah, goddess Astarte am I
To the people of the Phoenicians, Babylon
Call me Inanna or also Ishtar and
Egypt calls me goddess Isis,
Greece praises me as Aphrodite.
I would like as the Syrian goddess to have
A sanctuary erected in Syria.
You shall build it, Stratonica,
Build my temple in Hierapolis.
I will shower you with grace and favour,
If you are the architect of my temple,
My house of God. Take a helper,
Ask Combabus to assist thee.
The loving king's minister shall
Travel with Stratonica to that city
Hierapolis, to build my temple,
To build my temple there for my honour.
Go, do now all that I have told thee, and
Be without fear, I remain your protection and shield.
Combabus shall drink at my breasts
Bliss of earth and heavenly bliss!
Combabus is the goddess' chosen one and
A much-loved darling of the goddess and
A mystic betrothed to his
Goddess Astarte. And now, awake!
II
When the young queen told her husband
Of the dream of the goddess and
The goddess' wish for a temple
And of Combabus, who was needed,
Then said the young king to the queen,
O beautiful aurora, beloved wife,
The sun with her wings heals us,
Her bouncing little calves.
Thou fair aurora, O maiden mine,
Thou sun of righteousness, I know,
Combabus is full of earnest profundity,
One of the lonely wise men.
I call my faithful minister gladly,
To journey to Hierapolis, in the city
To build the goddess' house of worship,
As the goddess Astarte would have it.
The naked goddess of love, Astarte, desires,
That a house of worship be built for her,
Combabus will design it in the spirit,
Gloriously design it according to wisdom.
And when Combabus our goddess's house
Has designed in the spirit as the goddess wishes,
Then I'll send skilled masons
To build the goddess Astarte's house.
The king called Combabus and spoke to him,
The beautiful aurora, the queen,
Hail beneath her wings, sun
Of justice, O Combabus,
She wants with you at Hierapolis
To build the temple of the queen
Of space, earth and hell,
Goddess Astarte has commanded this.
So travel, my minister Combabus, with
The beautiful aurora, the queen,
To the city of Hierapolis to build
Our Astarte the goddess' church.
Combabus looked to the queen, looked to the woman,
To the fair aurora, the queen,
And said, May the goddess give
Secret wisdom and bliss to me!
III
Combabus thought, Such a beautiful woman
Like Stratonica is very dangerous for
The honour of the minister, viz,
Easily is lost the reputation of virtue.
She is as tender and beautiful as Susan, who
Lived in Susa, tender and fair and pure,
The ancients would tear her veil
From her smiling face.
When I build the temple with Stratonica,
As architect acts the queen,
That's what people will say,
That I have an affair with Stratonica.
And then will the king be jealous
And then will the young king think that the queen
Be diligent only in coquetry,
I'll die at the stake.
How can I be sure that the queen
Will not ruin the reputation of my virtue?
I hate lecherous adulterers
As well as the divorce of the marriage covenant.
There but myself can I emasculate, yea,
If I am a eunuch to the glory of virtue
And as a eunuch serve the goddess,
No minister will accuse me.
My best part, my penis I'll cut off
And my two twins I cut off,
The testicles full of man's semen,
I will live chastely as a virgin.
I will be a virgin-man of God,
I will serve the beautiful young queen
As if I were her nurse
Or her brother, yes, her sister.
But if the court shall accuse me
And will accuse me to the king
And rob me of the glory of my virtue,
I will say, Behold, I am emasculated!
And so the queen will not be suspected
Of flirting with a man,
When in Hierapolis the temple
She builds of the goddess as an architect.
IV
Combabus put his jewels
In a little golden casket
And so he went to his young king,
Prayed to his young king
And said, Sire, O my Lord and God,
I have kept a shrine here,
That serves you as a faithful witness,
That I am ever your servant.
Now when I travel with the queen
To Hierapolis, to the goddess Astarte.
To build the temple there, I pray,
King, keep my treasury.
I am the king's servant and ever faithful
And because I am the king's faithful servant,
Therefore I am a faithful slave
To my queen Stratonica too.
If ever there should be any doubt that
I am a faithful servant of the state and
Of the two Majesties, viz.
King and Queen, doubts arise
Of your servant that he has the father state
Not faithfully served, look at the casket,
And when my reputation is ruined,
The casket will bear witness to my purity.
I beseech you, O Majesty, Lord and God,
Do not open my golden casket,
Just keep it unseen,
Keep it safe, O my lord and king.
I go now at your bidding with
The young beautiful queen to build the house
Of the goddess of love,
Goddess Astarte will reward her servant!
I guard your queen, O my lord,
I keep her as a sanctuary and a treasure,
I guard your honour, Sovereign,
As well as the honour of the ruler's wife.
For if the king is like Adonis God,
So is like Queen Astarte your wife.
I give the best of my life
To goddess Astarte and Stratonica.
V
Since Stratonica and her minister often
Were together at her temple building,
The young queen soon recognised
Combabus' learned wisdom.
The young beautiful queen thought to herself,
This man is like a teacher of wisdom to me,
Who knows the will of the gods,
Praises our goddess Astarte.
I see his virtue and piety
And see in his eyes the light of love,
He has a heart full of pious wisdom,
He has a giving heart full of goodness.
He is not exactly beautiful like the young men,
But I love to be in his presence,
He has such a gentle aura,
Yes, he conveys the love of the gods.
He is so mild and gentle, peaceful,
Is an oracle of divine wisdom and
Knows all the art of architects,
Yes, is a divine artisan.
I cherish him and in his presence
My heart melts in my bosom
And my breast warms up and gets excited,
Yes, I feel something like love.
Yes, love is that, even more than passion,
Love becomes passion and I want
To lie in his manly arms,
I want to lie in his bosom.
But he is a faithful minister to
The honoured King, serves his state
And will not lower the dignity of his office
And will not lower the dignity by passions.
How can I confess my passion to him?
He rejects the queen's passion,
I shall be ashamed of my shame,
That would be more than shameful to us both.
I will be drunk with red wine,
For when drunkards make their passion known,
So they may still say,
It was the wine, it wasn't me.
VI
One evening the queen
And her minister sat quietly together
And drank of the red wine,
Very old Syrian grape-blood.
Then the beautiful queen, drunkenly happy,
Spoke to Combabus with a smile a dear word,
Combabus, best of the ministers,
Wisest of all the king's men,
I love to be in your presence,
And now that I am drunk with wine,
I have the courage also to tell thee,
That I love thee, my most adored!
I love you! So simply said and yet
A word of great depth: I love you!
Because I am drunk, so I dare,
I dare confess that I love you!
I love you with spiritual power and also
With all my feminine passion
And now, drunk and blissful,
Kiss me and kiss and kiss me again!
Yes, more than that, I desire the lovemaking
And want to play naked with you on the wide bed
Playing the sweet sport of love!
Make me a child, my beloved!
Combabus swallowed, faltered, blushed
And spoke this word to the beautiful queen,
If I were a man, my lady,
I would gladly make you a child!
But I am not a man, I am an emasculated man.
Alas, my queen, I am without penis,
And cannot, alas, satisfy,
Manly fully satisfy you.
Combabus pulled down his trousers and
He showed his queen how there
His penis and his testicles were missing.
Weeping the queen said, Woe is me!
Ah woe is me, woe is me, woe is me! The desire
Is not satisfied to me by the beloved man!
And yet, without penis or testicle,
I love thee sisterly, my Combabus!
VII
Now Stratonica and her minister often
Were together, architecturally wise
To serve their great goddess,
To build her the shrine.
Now Combabus was indeed an emasculated man,
And as a eunuch also free from desire and
Sexless, he was silent friends
With his queen, his mistress.
But the young beautiful queen
Felt the unsatisfied lust of the flesh
And so the female consumed herself,
Always renouncing, yet unwillingly.
Though sweet love's eroticism was not satisfied,
Was sated, ah, in the queen,
Still she stayed all her days
Gladly in the presence of her friend.
In this way was transformed
The heated passion of love into the bond
Of friendship between two good spirits,
United in the service of their goddess.
And so with the plague of passion,
As wise friends say, the best thing to do,
To give oneself to a work
That one may forget the suffering pleasure,
So did Stratonica, the queen,
Found peace in architecture, the service
Of the goddess, in the building of the temple,
Which she built with her friend.
When during the day she architecturally cleverly
Directed the carpenters, the masons and
The masters and journeymen all,
All according to the plan in her mind,
But in the evening she was a weak woman
And when she lay alone on the sopha still
By the red blood of the vines' daughter,
She still longed to be embraced,
And when she lay alone in bed at night,
She often dreamed lustful dreams
Of the man Combabus, the eunuch,
That eunuch of the goddess of love!
CANTO III
I
The king, Stratonica's husband, heard
Rumours from Hierapolis that his wife
Was flirting with the minister,
More and more the young king heard
That she loved to dance with her friend
And received him lightly clad in the bath
And in the evening sit with the man
Smiling and joking on his sofa
And that he once, in the dark of night,
The naked back of his mistress
On her bed, kneading
Her tense shoulders,
And when the king heard this rumour,
He summoned the good minister
To his chair of lord and judge
And said to the faithful minister this,
Combabus, my trust was thine,
I gladly gave you to my queen
To build the new sanctuary
For goddess Astarte, mistress of the kingdom.
But you betrayed my trust, man!
I have appointed you as steward
Of this sanctuary,
Our state sanctuary,
And have set thee as the master of
Every mason and carpenter,
I have made thee the architect
Of our state sanctuary
And have entrusted the salvation of the Syrian state
And entrusted my queen to thee
As servant of the great Goddess,
But you must have misunderstood.
The marriage of a king is sacred and
The marriage bed of the queen untouched,
To keep it untouched is a man's honour,
But you have betrayed your master.
And therefore the king of Syria and
At the same time all the people of Syria
Speak the sentence, the sentence of death!
May the goddess Astarte have mercy on you!
II
Combabus heard the death sentence
And prayed to the goddess Astarte silently,
Thou immaculate virgin, mother,
Queen, Goddess, come to my aid!
He was beaten, bound and
Led to his cross on the mountain of the dead,
Where many slaves were crucified,
Many rebels and many criminals.
Combabus stood before the cross, and looked up.
And said, Grant me one more wish before death,
Let me speak again to the king,
For a secret I will tell.
The king came to his minister and
Said to Combabus, Sinner of adultery,
You had stained the king's bed.
What does Combabus want of his king?
Then said Combabus unto the king, My Lord and God,
When I went with Stratonica
To the city of Hierapolis, to build
The beautiful temple for the goddess Astarte,
I gave my king beforehand, you know,
A golden casket to my king's hand.
And said, Lord, take good heed to the casket,
But you shall not open it, my ruler.
But now I ask my Lord and God
To open that golden casket
To see what is in it,
For life and death depend upon it.
The king granted him his last wish,
Took receipt of the golden casket and
Opened the casket and looked at
The penis and testicles of the faithful man.
So you have not defiled my wife,
And hadst thou willed, thou couldst not have,
So the wife remained unstained, and
Therefore my friend Combabus shall live!
And nothing more of death on the cross and
No more shame and disgrace on Combabus, no,
The king honoured the minister:
Goddess Astarte saved him!
III
The young king said this to Combabus,
Thou art a truly faithful minister, who
Sacrifices the genitals
Than break a sacred covenant.
You have now become for all the Syrian people
A pure paragon of virtue, you
Are the epitome of pure loyalty
To the master and mistress, and of chastity.
In these wild lustful times
You are a sacred icon of chastity, who
To the honour of his pure goddess
Sacrifices the penis and the twin testicles.
I have such great trust now
In you that at all hours of the day
In the palace of the lord and king
you shall appear before me, my minister.
And when I myself dine at noon,
You may also dine with your king and
When you join me in the evening,
You shall drink the king's red wine.
And when I am away on state business
And my beautiful queen is at home,
You may visit her at all times
And tell her according to thy wisdom
Of any new celestial phenomena,
Of the king and the Syrian people and
The people of Egypt or
What is happening in Yemen-Saba.
And when the beautiful queen is in the bath,
Stand still at her door,
Rub the tense back
Of my most beloved spouse.
When I myself and the queen in the bed
Lie together (it seldom happens)
And you want to speak to your king,
Calmly enter the bedchamber.
IV
Combabus but finally completed
The great goddess' sanctuary in the city of
Hierapolis, the temple of the goddess,
Syrian goddess Astarte‘s temple.
He placed on the marble image of a woman,
Who was like the queen of heaven Juno
Full of solemn majestic dignity
And with lily-white arms.
He placed on the marble image of a woman,
Who was like the virgin goddess of wisdom,
Minerva with the long lance,
Of lapis lazuli was her eye.
He placed on the marble image of a woman,
Who was like the sweet goddess of love,
Like Venus with the great bosom,
Marble breasts, blessed.
He also built for the Syrian goddess
Very beautiful the ivory throne of grace,
As seven ivory steps
Led to the mercy seat of his goddess.
On either side of this very beautiful throne
Full of majesty twelve golden lions there
Flanked this throne's steps,
For she was mistress of the wild beasts.
Her chair with its ivory backrest was
Adorned from behind with the golden bull,
A symbol of the god Adonis,
Symbol of the fertile stream of grace.
The goddess was adorned with precious stone jewellery
And wore a royal robe of gold,
Wreathed with a crown of stars
She was the queen of the universe.
From wherever someone looked to the woman,
The eyes of lapis lazuli always looked
With mother's eyes full of mercy
Graciously to the supplicant who pleaded to her.
Combabus let the incense rise in thick smoke
In the house of the Syrian goddess,
So thick was the cloud of incense,
None could see the goddess.
V
Then the goddess of love Astarte spoke this
To her loving Combabus, Man,
I am like a great wall
And my breasts are round towers!
I have chosen you, my beloved husband,
Before you chose me as your lover,
Before you opened your heart to me
I asked for entrance into your soul.
Be sure my love is boundless
And a flame of God is my delight,
I love thee with a special love,
Yes, you are mine and I am yours.
That thou art a eunuch for the kingdom of heaven,
That is my will. Thus have I preserved thee
From mortal infatuation, which gives you
Thorns more than blossoms of roses.
I have preserved thee from mortals,
From women beautiful in youth,
First etheric lovers,
But later matrons round.
Look, I am a sixteen-year-old virgin,
The pure perpetual virgin,
As slender as a date palm
And my breasts are grapes of vines.
Drink your fill of my mighty breasts,
To the child my breast drips honeyed milk,
But to the man red wine floods
Fiery from my filled breasts.
I have chosen you as my beloved husband,
The goddess of love's bridegroom you are now,
Not happy are you like the ordinary people,
But blissful as god Adonis!
Yes, God Adonis also drank at my breast
The wine I turned into red blood,
Now you, the god's twin brother
Rest at the breasts of the mother goddess!
Death will release you from all suffering,
Then you will enter the eternal kingdom of joy.
Adonis has risen,
There, darling, we will celebrate our wedding!