White, white violets
with myrtle and tender narcissus;
I shall weave laughing lilies
and soft crocus and purple hyacinths
with roses, flowers of lovers.
I shall come to decorate her brow
and brighten her perfumed hair
in a fine rain of flowers.
Sun, your phosphorescent rays
pin fire across the eternal firmament.
Snap a far-hunting arrow against our enemies,
O careering Healer to whom we cry!
Lounge in the shade of the luxuriant laurel’s
beautiful foliage. And now drink sweet water
from the cold spring so that your limbs weary
with summer toil will find rest in the west wind…
Blind money, I wish you were banished
from coastal plains and the sea,
from the deep continent,
and made your home on Acheron’s shore
All the malevolence in man
is caused by you.