Night Torment

by Brett Rutherford

     Adapted from Asclepiades, The Greek Anthology, v, 189

A fool’s watch
on one of the year’s
longest nights, endless,
in winter weather, too!

I’m drenched with rain.
There’s no reward
for pacing back and forth
before a door
that never opens — hers.

Morning comes soon.
The mocking Pleaides,
warm in the arms
of one another,
are halfway up
from the horizon,
humming on through
the holes in the clouds. 

I know she is in there,
the sly deceiver.
Someone already came
and lies entwined
with her soft limbs.

What would I do,
anyway, if I saw
him leaving? Accost,
or slink away, or,
worst of all, knock
at her door and beg
my turn?

I know I am mad.
This is not love;
no honor here
for Aphrodite, not
the kind of affection
the gods bless. Lust,
simple and searing,
a hot arrow,
drives me on,
amid the winter chill,
tormenting fire.