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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Mythology >> ID #1784772 |
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Agamemnon’s dream marching the army on Troy, false prophetic words by Zeus. Like very gods in my sight the scene sits where he can look in your eyes, who listens close to you, to hear the soft voice, its harshness murmuring of love, my lips are stricken to silence. On the black earth is an array of horsemen fled away to Troy-land, muted in thunder; men hiding where ships will never sail. Beneath a breast a heart is shaken, my body pale beside the blue sea. Helen, forsaking my lordly husband; resigned a passionless marriage glancing where your voice cries, the tenuous flame suffuses. Oh! Handsome Trojan prince my Paris; lovers in war tragedy become inevitable. Menelaus and you will meet in single combat, the solemn oaths to be sworn by both sides, abiding by the outcome of the duel. Nothing shows in front of my eyes being refused the final decision, saved by goddess Aphrodite sincerely devoted to you, now gone before me armed in battle, victorious.
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