And there she stands, purely naked,
born from the foam of the seas,
how should I say it, how to make it,
how to tell you what my sight sees.

She’s an illusion, a lucid dream,
sent to me from the Queen Selene,
I see her, yet she‘s unseen,
I’m sure you know what I mean.

In every point of every layer,
be my Artemis, be my Freya,
every...