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
For creation, whatever the result, from Metamorphosis.
from Metamorphosis: Daedalus and Icarus / by Ovid, Publius Ovidius Naso, translated by Charles Martin
these were bound
together in the middle with flaxen thread
and then joined at the quills with molded wax;
and, finally, he bent them just a bit,
so they resembled bird’s wings.
For the old year beginning to morph into the new, from Metamorphoses, translated by Charles Martin.
from Daedalus and Icarus / by Ovid
‘Though he may bar the earth
and seas,’ he said, ‘without a doubt, the sky
above is open; that is how we’ll go:
Minos rules everything except the air.’