Love
I will, I will kiss.
Love urges me to kiss. And since this is not my desire I was unwilling to be urged.
Love shook his straight bow and gold quiver; he called me to the fight.
I struggled with Love, throwing the breast-plate upon my shoulders, my spear and ox-hide shield, like Achilles.
He struck and I fled. And as he had no shafts he grew angry, hurled himself at me in a glance.
He pierced to my heart and overwhelmed me. In vain I have a shield; for, since he is within me, is he not out of shot?
Love urges me to kiss. And since this is not my desire I was unwilling to be urged.
Love shook his straight bow and gold quiver; he called me to the fight.
I struggled with Love, throwing the breast-plate upon my shoulders, my spear and ox-hide shield, like Achilles.
He struck and I fled. And as he had no shafts he grew angry, hurled himself at me in a glance.
He pierced to my heart and overwhelmed me. In vain I have a shield; for, since he is within me, is he not out of shot?
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