Hymn to Aphrodite

Venus solis occasus orientisque, Dea pacifica,foam-borne, implacable, tender:war and storm serve you, and you wearthe fiery tiara of the volcanoes.The young salmon swimming downriverand the old upstream to breed and dieare yours, and the fog-drinking forests.Yours are the scattered emerald half-circlesof islands, the lost islands. Yoursare the sunken warships of the Emperor.Yours is each raindrop of the vast typhoon,and the slow swirl of pelagic polymers.The depths below all light are yours.The moon is your hand-mirror.Mother of Time and daughter of Destruction,your feet are light upon the waters.Death your dog follows you down the beacheswhining to see the breakers breakinto blossom, into immortalfoam-flowers, where you have leftthe bright track of your passing.Pity your fearful, foolish children,O Aphrodite of Fukushima.