DPF / Ovid

For your waxing crescent moon today, from Metamorphoses, translated by Charles Martin.

from Metamorphoses: Medea and Aeson / by Publius Ovidius Naso/Ovid

[the moon] sets out walking barefoot from her house,
with garments loosened and with unbound hair
cascading down her back, and makes her way
without companion, straying through the deep
silence of midnight, when men and birds and beasts
are all released into profound repose,
with not a peep or murmur from the hedgerow,
and in the trees the leaves are stilly silent,
and even the dewy air is motionless;
she lifts her arms up to the brilliant stars

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