To Ersa

To Ersa

by Eremites Plato

O Ersa, goddess of dew,
Daughter of the Thunder-Holder,
In your tears
Grassy hills are bathing,
Silver pearls you toss,
That of morning mists are born
On the sleeping earth.
Pass not, beautiful, glamorous,
Divine appearance,
Pass not
To the sound of golden hooves galloping,
When your rose-fingered mother
Opens the Gates of Dawn.
Pass not and stay
Hidden in the greening blades,
Till the Evening comes
And with a mild kiss of coolness
Wakes you up anew.