ἔρως

by Mark Allinson

After Plato’s Symposium

Eros is not Cupid,
No biddable little boy,
For I have met with Eros
And his arrow is no toy.

He is a mighty hunter
A master of artifice,
Seducer and enchanter,
No cheeky imp of bliss.

His hair is lank and tangled,
He sleeps on naked streets
In doorways and on benches
Where the sleet and hail beats.

His feet are bare and blistered
And his self-respect and home
Are lost, like Need, his mother,
Who weeps in want alone.

And day and night he haunts me,
This wounded, hunting youth,
Desperate, looking hard, as any
Lover of the truth.

“ἔρως” first appeared in Tarn.


A   A   A