The goddess Aphrodite flutters down
Her shawl and smock all red in various shades
Then she ties plaits to plenty praise on crown
Her red hair raised above her shoulder blades
The lechers sing at sight their serenades
The goddess grants to none her private parts
The strength of supernature never fades
Her gaze as seeming sharp as silver darts
Hephaestus built a bot of stops and starts
The painted statue clocked up whizz and whirr
Of Aphrodite versed in metal arts
He watched the flat out censorship occur
Hephaestus flung off cliff yet found his feet
If club he limped he ambulated street
Chorus feet pies qudim
