She entered and passionately, her eyes half closed, she united her lips with mine and our tongues touched each other.... Never was there in my life a kiss like that one. She stood against me, all love and contentment. One of my knees, little by little, mounted between her hot thighs which gave way as though for a lover. My hand wandered over her tunic seeking to divine the hidden body which, by turns, undulated, yielding itself, or, arching, stiffened itself with shiverings of the skin. With her eyes in delirium, she pointed toward the bed; but we had not the right to love before the ceremony of wedding, and we separated brusquely. LIII THE WEDDING In the morning they had the wedding-feast in the house of Acalanthis whom she had adopted for a mother. Mnasidika wore the white veil and I the male tunic. Then, amidst twenty women, she put on her robes of festival. Perfumed with Bakkaris, sifted with powder of gold, her cool and animated skin attracted furtive hands. In her chamber filled with foliage, she waited for me like a spouse. And I carried her away on a chariot between myself and the nymphagogue. One of her little breasts burned in my hand. They chanted the nuptial song; the flutes played also. I carried Mnasidika under the shoulders and under the knees and we passed over the threshold covered with roses. LIV THE PAST WHICH SURVIVES I will leave the bed as she has left it, unmade and rumpled, the covers mingled, in order that the form of her body may remain impressed beside mine. Until tomorrow I will not go to the bath, I I will not wear any garments, I will not comb my hair, for fear lest I efface her caresses. This morning, I will not eat, nor this evening, and upon my lips I will place neither rouge nor powder, in order that her kiss may remain. I will leave the shutters closed and I will not open the door for fear lest the remembrance which she has left fly out upon the wind. LV METAMORPHOSIS Formerly I was amorous of the beauty of young men, and the remembrance of their words kept me awake. I remember having graven a name in the bark of a plane-tree. I remember having left a strip of my tunic in a path where someone would pass. I remember having loved.... O Pannychis, my babe, in what hands have I left thee? how, O unfortunate one, have I abandoned thee? Today, and forever, Mnasidika alone possesses me. What she receives as a sacrifice is the happiness of those whom I have deserted for her. LVI THE NAMELESS TOMB Mnasidika took me by the hand and led me outside the gates of the city to a little uncultivated field where there was a marble stèle. And she said: “This was the lover of my mother.”