FRIDAY

She is the wife of the king of the gods, fish-eyed

Kateřina, she who rides the clouds of storm

And rains down her loving and giving. Née Frigga,

This mother of ten, purchases the food of gods

And strews the palaces with her cold disdain

Of illusion and imagination. She is the real

Daughter of Earth: in her hot blood, dreams

Melt and the beauty of what we see gleams

And what we touch burns like ice. Remember,

On Fridays, this female, the ferment she dispels

How, by the touch of her hand on your brow, sorrow

Dispels, calm descends, and, after her loving,

Sleep, like death, aimless and blank, drops down and down.