Helen with your hair of flaxen
and skin of creamy touch
Your eyes glow
like the sea in sunlight
And your smile warms the heart
of the sad, broken man.
Helen with your voice of heaven
and your lips as soft as rose
Sweet your scent is
like the breeze on a summer’s day
And your laughter of honey music—
the cure for a dying man.
Helen with your walk of grace
and lashes, long and dark
Your beauty bewitches any mortal man
and even gods and lords above
From Leda and swan
you were born
the most beautiful woman in the world.
Beauty, now your curse--
the cause of the war.
For it was you men wanted to win,
and it was you men attempted to defend
Your beloved Paris dead,
marked down by the hands
of your red-head husband.
He whose brother’s army
crushed the grand city of Priam.
And Troy now ashes
and Troy now your legend.