Hear thou my lamentation,
Eros, Aphrodite's son!
My heart is broken and my days are done.

Where the woods are dark and the stream runs clear in the dark,

Eros!

I prayed to thy mother and planted the seeds of her flowers,
And smiled at the planting and wept at the planting. Oh violets,
Ye are dead and your whiteness, your sweetness, availed not. Thy mother
Is cruel. Her flowers lie dead at the steps of the altar,
Eros! Eros!

With a shining like silver they cut through the blue of the sky
Eros!
The dove's wings, they white doves I brought to thy mother in worship;
And I said, she will laugh for joy of my doves. Oh, stillness
Of dead wings. She laughed not nor looked. My doves are dead,
Are dead at the steps of her altars. They mother is cruel,
Eros, Eros!

Hear thou my lamentation,
Eros, Aphrodite's son!
My heart is broken and my days are done.