mythology - undines or water nymphs
The origin of the Undines (or Ondines) can best be traced all the way back to ancient Greece wherein mythology cites a clan of nymphs called Oceanides claimed the waters of the world as their home. The water nymphs or water spirits, belong to the Water Elemental, are are usually found in forest pools and waterfalls. They are said to have beautiful voices, which can be sometime heard singing over the sound of water that entices those that hear it. These beings are believed to be the daughters of Titan and his wife Tethys. Their presence in the oceans was legendary among seafarers. Mostly beneficent, Oceanides would aid water-travelers in navigation and provide safe sea-ways.In European lore, Undines are fabled to be the wandering spirits of love-lorn women. According to some legends, Undines can receive a soul when they marry a human man and bear his child. This aspect of them has them to be a popular subject motif for romantic and tragic literature. Often with sailors being drawn to them by their tears of sorrow that composed the salty seas when wept having lost at love. Tales indicate that these female water spirits are enchantingly beautiful and reputed to be relatively benign, however, like most female spirits they’ve got a temper when crossed and can be force to be reckoned with.
r a i n
On The Plethora Of Dryads
About a quintessential beauty
Visible only to the paragon heart,
I tried my sight on an apple-tree
That for eccentric knob and wart
Had all my love.
Without meat or drink I sat
Starving my fantasy down
To discover that metaphysical Tree which hid
From my worldling look its brilliant vein
Far deeper in gross wood
Than axe could cut.
But before I might blind sense
To see with the spotless soul,
Each particular quirk so ravished me
Every pock and stain bulked more beautiful
Than flesh of any body
Flawed by love’s prints.
Battle however I would
To break through that patchwork
Of leaves’ bicker and whisk in babel tongues,
Streak and mottle of tawn bark,
No visionary lightnings
Pierced my dense lid.
Instead, a wanton fit
Dragged each dazzled sense apart
Surfeiting eye, ear, taste, touch, smell;
Now, snared by this miraculous art,
I ride earth’s burning carrousel
Day in, day out,
And such grit corrupts my eyes
I must watch ****tish dryads twitch
Their multifarious silks in the holy grove
Until no chaste tree but suffers blotch
Under flux of those seductive
Reds, greens, blues.