In the procession they have carried me in triumph, me, Bilitis, all naked upon a shell-like car upon which slaves, during the night, had placed ten thousand roses. I reclined, my hands under my neck, my feet alone clad in gold, and my body outstretched softly upon the bed of my warm hair mingled with the cool petals. Twelve children, with wingèd shoulders, served me as a goddess; one of them held a shade, the others showered me with perfume or burned incense in the prow. And about me I heard rustling the ardent murmur of the multitude, whilst the breath of desire floated about my nudity, in the blue mist of the aromatics. CXIII TO THE GOD OF THE WOODS O venerable Priapos, god of the woods, whom I have fastened in the marble border of my bath, it is not without reason, guardian of the orchards, that thou shouldst watch here over the courtesans. God, we have not bought thee to sacrifice our virginities to thee. No one can give that which is no more, and the zealots of Pallas run not the streets of Amathus. No. Formerly thou didst watch over the leafy hair of the trees, over the wet flowers, over the heavy and savory fruits. It is for that we have chosen thee. Guard thou today our blond heads, the opened poppies of our lips and the violets of our eyes. Guard the firm fruit of our breasts and give us lovers who resemble thee. CXIV THE DANCING-GIRL WITH CROTALES Thou attachest to thy light hands the resounding crotales, Myrrhinidion my dear, and, almost naked from thy robe, thou extendest thy nervous limbs. How pretty thou art, thine arms in the air, thy loins arched and thy breasts reddened! Thou commencest: thy feet, one before the other, pose, hesitate, and glide softly. Thy body bends like a scarf, thou caressest thy shivering skin, and voluptuousness inundates thy long, swooning eyes. Suddenly thou strikest the crotales! Arch thyself, erect upon thy feet, shake thy loins, advance thy legs and let thy hands, filled with noise, call all the desires in a band about thy turning body. We, we applaud with great cries, whether, smiling over thy shoulder, thou agitatest with a shiver thy convulsed muscular croup, or whether thou undulatest, almost extended, to the rhythm of thy memories. CXV THE FLUTE-PLAYER Melixo, thy legs joined, thy body inclined, thine arms forward, thou slippest thy light double-flute between thy lips moist with wine, and thou playest about the couch where Teleas still embraces me. Am I not most imprudent, I who hire so young a girl to distract my hours of labor? I who show her thus naked to the curious looks of my lovers, am I not careless?