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and tightened against Myrrha, who, unable
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to express her torture, could not call upon
Lucina in the usual words of travail.
But then just like a woman in great pain,
the tree bends down and, while it groans, bedews
itself with falling tears. Lucina stood
in pity near the groaning branches, laid
her hands on them, and uttered charms to aid
the hindered birth. The tree cracked open then,
the bark was rent asunder, and it gave forth
its living weight, a wailing baby-boy.
The Naiads laid him on soft leaves, and they
anointed him with his own mother's tears.
Even Envy would not fail to praise the child,
as beautiful as naked cupids seen
in chosen paintings. Only give to him
a polished quiver, or take theirs from them,
and no keen eye could choose him from their midst.
Time gliding by without our knowledge cheats us,
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and nothing can be swifter than the years.
That son of sister and grandfather, who
was lately hidden in his parent tree,
just lately born, a lovely baby-boy
is now a youth, now man more beautiful
than during growth. He wins the love of Venus
and so avenges his own mother's passion.
For while the goddess' son with quiver held
on shoulder, once was kissing his loved mother,
it chanced unwittingly he grazed her breast
with a projecting arrow. Instantly
the wounded goddess pushed her son away;
but the scratch had pierced her deeper than she thought
and even Venus was at first deceived.
Delighted with the beauty of the youth,
she does not think of her Cytherian shores
and does not care for Paphos, which is girt
by the deep sea, nor Cnidos, haunts of fish,
nor Amathus far-famed for precious ores.
Venus, neglecting heaven, prefers Adonis
to heaven, and so she holds close to his ways
