Craftsman of Wine Bowls

On this wine bowl          of pure silver—
destined for the home          of Heracleides,
where discerning taste          and elegance reside—
I've engraved flowers,          streams and thyme,
and in their midst          a handsome youth,
naked and erotic,          dangling his leg
in the water still.          I prayed, memory,
that I'd find in you          an ally strong enough to render
the face of this youth,          whom I loved, just as it once was.
It will not be easy,          as it has been
some fifteen years          from the day he fell,
a soldier,          in the battle of Magnesia.