When in the time of buds and green life springing
Beneath the whiteness of retreating snow,
I hear the birds of April sweetly singing
And feel the new-born sun upon me glow;
I bow my head in silence and remember
The fair, sweet youth I loved once long ago.
His father was of Kypros and his mother
Was from the isle where Sappho loved and sang.
More dear was he than sister, friend or brother;
As one we wept, as one our laughter rang.
Slow tears are falling now as I remember,
My heart transfixed on grief’s dark bitter pang.
Here in the warm blue nights of summer weather,
Safe in the shelter of this fragrant pine
We lay and fashioned odes to chant together,
Then danced the round, his slender hands in mine.
As clear as any maiden’s I remember
His sweet voice rose to hymn the powers divine.
The tree of Attis bears a fruit forbidden,
Yet bright Apollo and Hyakinthos knew
That long ago our love would not be hidden
But pledged with open hearts both pure and true.
Somewhere beyond all time the Gods remember
And judge me not because I weep for you.

~ Victor H. Anderson

© Copyright 1970, 2003 by Cora Anderson.
Used with permission.