Naissance de Vénus. Birth of Venus

BIRTH OF VENUS

FROM the depths of her mother, still cold and steaming, Here at a threshold beaten by tempests, the flesh Brought bitterly forth by the sun out of the sea, Sets itself free from the diamonds and the turmoil.

Her smile takes shape, and attends upon her white arms To bathe in tears the east on a mature shoulder, Of watery Thetis the most pure precious stones, And her tresses divide at a quiver of her flanks.

The cool pebbles, which sprinkle and flee her nimble run, Give way, hollow rumour of thirst, and the facile Sand has drunk the kisses of her childish bounding;

But the thousand glances perfidious or vague, Her darting eye blends with the perilous flashes Of smiling water, and the faithless dance of the waves.