The Myth Dies Poem by Paulos Ioannou

And the old myth dies along with Saint Aphrodite,
Of the sinuous elegance and the lips of honey
Who is now called Maria Virgin of the vines,
Daughter of piety born under the Star of David,
In the final days of the eon of the absence of sin.

From every sea, from every mountain, from every valley
The good news is spread the time has come
As was proclaimed in ancient books and prophecies
For the birth of the radiant son
And there, along with the star of Bethlehem shining
Its exuberance over the abyss at the joyous occasion,
We witnessed the first day of the first fall from grace.

The sin now is free among us,
In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit,
For without it we wouldn't have known that we were
Forever condemned to deliberate over a glass of wine
The shame of knowledge and carnal desire to the end of history