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. Â 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
