To Venus, brightest planet in the sky

 

To whom the ancients gave a goddess' name, 

I sing, though not with the sweet lips of rhyme, 

But with the stammering tongue of mortal clay.

Thou shinest in the west, the harbinger of night, 

And in the east, the herald of the morn; 

Thou art the star of love, the star of light, 

And in thy beauty all the planets scorn.

Thou art the sister of the Earth, and yet 

Thou art so different from our world below; 

No life is there, no water, no sweet air, 

But only clouds of sulphur and of woe.

Yet still thou art a lovely planet, fair 

With beauty that no mortal eye can see; 

And still thy name is whispered in the air, 

And still thy worship is a mystery.

O Venus, goddess of the morning star, 

O Venus, queen of love and beauty bright, 

Inspire my soul with thy celestial fire, 

And guide my footsteps to the realms of light.

May I be worthy of thy heavenly grace, 

And may I sing thy praise in every clime; 

May I be true to love, and pure of race, 

And may I live to see thy glorious prime.

O Venus, hear my prayer, and grant my wish, 

And make me worthy of thy heavenly love; 

And when at last my earthly pilgrimage is o'er, 

May I be wafted to thy happy grove.

There, in the realms of light, I'll sing thy praise, 

And join the chorus of the heavenly choir; 

And there, forevermore, I'll dwell in peace, 

And bask in thy eternal sunshine.

-Unlikely Buddha 2023