Erkunde Griechische Mythologie, 2d-kunst und noch mehr!

minor goddesses + titans  and though the sweet taste of my name has perhaps long faded from mortal tongues, there shall come a glorious day when I shall rise up once more and the power, burning amongst the ichor in my veins, will flood this wretched world—I will have them kneeling

minor goddesses + titans and though the sweet taste of my name has perhaps long faded from mortal tongues, there shall come a glorious day when I shall rise up once more and the power, burning amongst the ichor in my veins, will flood this wretched world—I will have them kneeling

minor goddesses + titans: Asteria : and though the sweet taste of my name has perhaps long faded from mortal tongues, there shall come a glorious day when I shall rise up once more and the power, burning amongst the ichor in my veins, will flood this wretched world—I will have them kneeling

minor goddesses + titans: Asteria : and though the sweet taste of my name has perhaps long faded from mortal tongues, there shall come a glorious day when I shall rise up once more and the power, burning amongst the ichor in my veins, will flood this wretched world—I will have them kneeling

"And the rivers swelling, blood in their silt,  all for a linen undulation, a bit of cloud,  a butterfly’s flicker, a wisp of swan’s down,  an empty tunic — all for a Helen.  And my brother?  Nightingale nightingale nightingale,  what is a god? What is not a god? And what is there in between them?" -George Seferis "Helen"

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D. G. Rossetti  Proserpine: 1874  Afar away the light that brings cold cheer  Unto this wall, - one instant and no more  Admitted at my distant palace-door  Afar the flowers of Enna from this drear  Dire fruit, which, tasted once, must thrall me here.  Afar those skies from this Tartarean grey  That chills me: and afar how far away,  The nights that shall become the days that were.    Afar from mine own self I seem, and wing  Strange ways in thought, and listenfor a sign:  And still some…

D. G. Rossetti Proserpine: 1874 Afar away the light that brings cold cheer Unto this wall, - one instant and no more Admitted at my distant palace-door Afar the flowers of Enna from this drear Dire fruit, which, tasted once, must thrall me here. Afar those skies from this Tartarean grey That chills me: and afar how far away, The nights that shall become the days that were. Afar from mine own self I seem, and wing Strange ways in thought, and listenfor a sign: And still some…

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