They say, the charm, that woman has,
Has short lifetime in past and here…
But what's about sculptor's hands?
Do not they live trough hundreds years?

Aphrodite, storms had passed you by
You weren't buried under rocks and lime,
And the wars didn't burned you, though tried,
Maiden, you forever stay alive.

From the nature, every mortal man
Has received the gift of life for instant.
But it chanced: a daring artist spans
Human's life into the future, distant.

Stand, my beauty, gorges and unharmed,
On the art's forever robust stone!
We all kneel before your winning charm, -
Art lives on the planet, our own.