Κόρη

kore – the girl

Born not of night’s fall on the sea you,

No, borne to land a living pearl not

You, not stormy daughter, nor gold apple eater,

Not willow-bodied, trapped beneath nets heaving.

You, lovely you, are winter’s foil,

Paired to a robin’s song.

Cast of sunrises you, ripest dew,

Softened grass; child of the deep world’s heart.

Nature’s crop was threshed for you,

All her colours, and by the harvest moon

I would see you walk the land I sow.

Yes, I would see you eat the seeds of my fruit.