I swear to thee by Cupid’s strongest bow,
By his best arrow with the golden head,
By the simplicity of Venus’ doves,
By that which knitteth souls and prospers loves, ...
By all the vows that ever men have broke
(In number more than ever women spoke).
William Shakespeare
On February 14th, love songs will play, poems of love will be written and vows will be taken to celebrate a holiday devoted to a Saint. Who is this Saint? Why exactly do we celebrate Valentine's Day? Many think it is just a conjured up fable to mark a day on the calendar to boost sales in flower shops and candy stores. Well...as the fable goes there once lived a man and his name was Valentine, a priest who served in Rome during the third century. Claudius II was the Emperor and made a choice that every soldier should be single. He had come to the conclusion that love, marriage and family clouded a man's vision in a time of war. With his thoughts, he outlawed marriage.
Valentine right away realized the wrong in this act and became an activist for the sanction of love. He defied the law and as a Priest continued to wed young lovers. He was discovered and jailed until he was finally put to death and martyred for his cause. While he was waiting his execution in prison, he fell in love with his jailor's daughter and wrote her love letters signing them, Your Valentine. And then, there is Cupid. Cherub boy verses Roman God. In any case he carries a bow with a quiver of arrows. If Cupid's aim is on target, you might find yourself head over heals, OR picking yourself up from the floor if he forgets to fire at your chosen one. You might even find truth to Jerome K. Jerome's words - Love is like the measles; we all have to go through it.
In Roman mythology, Cupid was the son of Venus and she was the Goddess of love. And, as the story goes Cupid is the young God who falls in love with Psyche, a beautiful maiden and very much mortal. As Venus was jealous of Psyche's beauty, she allowed their marriage but did forbid Psyche to ever cast her eyes upon Cupid. Psyche was alright with that until she was coaxed into disobeying her Mother In-Law and by her own sisters no less. Cupid's reaction was of both shock and dismay that his loving wife could betray his dear cherished Mother and off to Mommy he stormed to report how betrayed they were.
Psyche was punished and left completely alone. In disbelief that the one she loved would oppose her, she wondered looking for him where she found the temple of Venus. Venus still held ill toward the young maiden and ready to destroy her, she paused giving Psyche tasks, confident she would fail.
Psyche finished all and with her last task she was given a small box. She was sent to the underworld and told to capture a little beauty of Proserpine. It was made clear not to look into the box but to simply bring it back to Venus. Maybe in her way of thinking, if she opened the box and looked into sheer beauty, she would then know how to regain her husband's love and affection. Perhaps she did it out of desperation to have Venus love her and accept her as a daughter.
When she opened the box she did not find the beauty that she believed she had confined, but in it's place a deadly slumber. Cupid came to his wife finding her lifeless body. With his love for his wife, he gathered the death grip and placed it back into the box. All was forgiven, for the love he could not deny. When Venus saw how much one loved the other she was moved and she too forgave Psyche, making her a Goddess.
I do not love you... by Pablo Neruda
http://www.public.asu.edu/~nielle/neruda.htm#idonot
I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way
that this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.
Love and Romance Poetry Galore
http://www.poetrygalore.com/poems/love/_list-love01.htm
The History Channel
http://www.historychannel.com/exhibits/valentine/
St. Valentine
http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/15254a.htm
Saint Valentine
http://www.lonekeep.com/lki_home/Valentine.htm
Cupid
http://www.holidayinsights.com/valentine/cupid.htm
The History of Cupid
http://www.theromantic.com/valentinesday/cupid.htm
May Cupid's aim be sure and true, and your days there after be filled with love. |
