Uncharted Knowledge Wisdom From Previous Realities View as JSON for agents & LLMs

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The Songs of Bilitis: I. Bucolics In Pamphylia: The Stream in the Wood

I bathed alone in the stream in the wood. I must have frightened the poor naïads, for I could scarcely see them far away in the dark water. I called to them. To mimic them I plaited iris blossoms, black as my hair, about my neck, twined with knots of yellow gilly-flowers. With a long floating weed, I made myself a green girdle, and to see it I pressed my breasts and inclined my head a little. And I called: "Naïads! naïads! play with me, be nice." But the naïads are transparent, and perhaps I even caressed their lissom arms, unknowing!