Lyrscriben

Pandora

The Titans were disquiet
That man was included in the covenant of fire.
It was Jupiter’s suggestion,
Create a mate for man,
Call her woman.
“Every god in heaven
Will work on the particulars of her perfection,
Her name? Her name will be Pandora,
Our shared revenge for being singed.
Venus, you will lend her beauty,
Apollo, you will instruct in pleasing music,
Mercury, your gift, pillow talk, curiosity, and persuasion.”
Thus equipped a fitting gift for man
Through Epimetheus,
Who greeted her with a little doubt but with glad acceptance.
Within earth’s abode were primeval boxes
Of noxious gas and primordial odors.
Pandora, fresh from heaven was in a fidget,
Her blood boiled and her skin itched.
She had a burning need to know,
She entered creation’s workshop,
Epimetheus away on diversion,
Pandora opened a lidded box.
Unexpected flew a maelstrom plague,
A list full legion,
Of Gout, rheumatism, colic, envy, spite …,
A veritable plenitude of endless curses.
Pandora, aghast,
Found the lid and closed the box.
All within
Was now about
Except for hope,
A little pressed but resolute.