Seven brothers and I were widely thrown;
My history, my myth, and my name are known.
My face is always hidden by the mist.
The paths I tread not far from light exist
I have never done a threatening act,
But was at times as enemy attacked.
My dance a pentagram inscribes and lights
In somewhat fewer than three thousand nights.
Philosophers back then called me Ishtar;
In ancient days they thought I wandered far,
Although I hover high, aloof above.
My namesake ruled, within the court of Love.