It is written. Nothing can escape.
Floating through the waves with seaweed in my hair,
or being washed up battered on the inaccessible rocks,
cannot undo the event to which
there were never any alternatives.
O lucky Daphne, motionless and green
to avoid the touch of God!
Lucky Syrinx, who chose a legend
instead of too much blood.
For me there was no choice.
There were no crossroads at all.
