Those were the good times
when they observed the night skies
for the gleaming moon chariot,
watching me goad my lovely horses
across the heavens at full speed.
When they secretly hoped to catch me
in a little intermezzo on Mount Latmus
with the beautiful Endymion,
fool he is for choosing his eternal sleep.
With melancholy I remember the times
when a total eclipse of the moon
was fearfully thought of as a sign
they had incurred my seething wrath.
Now they have all sorts of telescopes
and call watching me science,
I curse you, Philolaus, for diminishing
the omnipotence of the gods.
And if only Zeus were not so tame now
involved with other worlds,
and such a stickler for rules,
I would conjure up a little something
to turn your sciences upside down.
© november child
artwork: Endymion – George Frederic Watts (1817 – 1904)