The goddess of the morning, dawn
Rose renewed to open the gates
For her brother, the rising sun,
And began the day, breaking light.
Rosy-fingered, she donned her robe
Of saffron and greeted the day
With a smile and a song, to wit,
Ready to cross the sky in flight.
To her lover she was once drawn
So that the gods she chose to probe
For his eternal life and yet
Forgot youth; he aged, a cruel plight.
Cicada remains, man is gone;
Alone now, she crosses the globe.
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