When dawn, wearing golden sandals, awoke me,
I began to crawl, burning, shivering, to my uncurtained window;
Migrating birds streamed over the dark sea.
Who can quench the ingenious fires of cruelty?
I was dreaming of white-fetlocked horses conferring in a meadow
When dawn, wearing golden sandals, awoke me.
On my stopped loom, a sort of landscape: icy
Peaks, serrated as daggers; a corpse, and beside it a crow,
And migrating birds streaming over the dark sea.
Fat, autumnal flies alight on my sheets, rainbow-hued, dizzy;
This one on my writst — its mandibles quiver, its givvous eyes glow…
Then dawn, wearing golden sandals, awoke me.
Merciless daughter of Zeus, immortal Aphrodite,
Come to me, sing to me, low-voiced, in sorrow
Of migrating birds that stream over the dark sea.
Cast aside your spangled headband: in my mirror I see
You beneath these stringy locks, puckered lips, and tearstained cheeks…go,
Migrating birds, stream over the dark sea;
And dawn, wearing golden sandals, awake me.
Axé.