A surprising rendition of blackness, until you think of pitch-black.  And here is Zeus again having to balance the requests of lesser gods with his own wishes and the insistent demands of hate-filled Hera.


Over His suppliant’s tar-dark hair

He sees the ascension of the Evening Star

Beckon infinity.  And says:


     ‘Thetis, I understand. The trouble is, my wife.

Nothing delights her like abusing me.

She hates the thought of Troy…


Source: Christopher Logue, War Music, London: Faber and Faber, 2001, p. 39

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