And I Lounged And Lay On Their Beds By C.P. Cavafy
When I went to that house of pleasure I didn’t stay in the front rooms where they celebrate, with some decorum, the accepted modes of love.
I went into the secret rooms and lounged and lay on their beds.
I went into the secret rooms considered shameful even to name. But not shameful to me—because if they were, what kind of poet, what kind of artist would I be? I’d rather be an ascetic. That would be more in keeping, much more in keeping with my poetry, than for me to find pleasure in the commonplace rooms.
Translated by Edmund Keeley/Philip Sherrard
(C.P. Cavafy, Collected Poems. Translated by Edmund Keeley and Philip Sherrard. Edited by George Savidis. Revised Edition. Princeton University Press, 1992)
I'm a woman, a Witch, a mother, a grandmother, an eco-feminist, a gardener, a reader, a writer, and a priestess of the Great Mother Earth. Hecate appears in the
Homeric Ode to Demeter, which tells of Hades who caught Persophone
"up reluctant on his golden car and bare her away lamenting. . . . But no one, either of the deathless gods or of mortal men, heard her voice, nor yet the olive-trees bearing rich fruit: only tenderhearted Hecate, bright-coiffed, the daughter of Persaeus, heard the girl from her cave . . . ."