O Cypris!
I must rank among those who seek your nectar.
You were risen from these very seas to affect her-
and I too-
your whispers surround me even today.
![](https://cherwell.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/02/55460028-scaled.jpg)
Perched under the sun,
upon a step of this worn amphitheatre,
a sweet feline at my feet, suddenly lost in the
mountains:
green, rolling landscape, rolling hills, fixed mosaics.
I climb clockwise,
up a medieval stairway, up to the battlement,
the song of this castle leaves me breathless, baffled and bent
over the parapets.
Gazing down, gazing out, over the Mediterranean.
![Ampitheatre](https://cherwell.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/02/55460035-1-1024x679.jpg)
With each cautious step I take, dust rises off the floor;
my mind lingers on those armour-clad types who walked here long before.
In my absent musings, I realise we do not rhyme-
but some intrinsic, crucial bit remains unchanged through time.
Among these muted smiling remains I dutifully ponder,
what is it that lies ruined? I’m inspired by my wonder –
O Cypris!
The love in your lap makes worthwhile the thunder.
![](https://cherwell.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/02/55460037-1024x679.jpg)