This is one of the timeless tales from Greek mythology, a story that has been told for centuries to illustrate love, devotion, and the power of the gods.
The Sculptor Who Rejected the World
On the island of Cyprus lived Pygmalion, a sculptor of unmatched skill and impossible standards. He saw around him vanity, deceit, and shallow love — and so, disgusted by the flaws of humankind, he withdrew into his craft. Stone became his refuge.
The Birth of the Perfect Woman
He set out to carve the perfect woman — not one of flesh and impulse, but an ideal born of his own imagination. For days and nights, he worked without rest, his chisel cutting through ivory with devotion that blurred into obsession.
When he stepped back, she stood before him — Galatea, though she had no name yet. The perfection of her form unsettled even her creator. Her eyes seemed moments away from blinking. Pygmalion dressed her in fine robes, placed rings on her hands, and laid flowers at her feet. He kissed her lips, cold as marble, and whispered words meant for the living.
Love for the Unliving
The sculptor’s heart betrayed him — he fell in love with his own creation.
He began to dream that she breathed softly at night, that her chest rose and fell. Each morning, he woke to silence, the cruel mockery of his imagination.
A Prayer to Aphrodite
When the festival of Aphrodite came, Pygmalion joined the worshipers and knelt before the goddess of love. His prayer was quiet, almost ashamed:
“Goddess, if it be possible, grant me a wife like my ivory maiden.”
Aphrodite, who delights in irony as much as mercy, heard him. She saw in him not lust, but devotion — and perhaps a mirror of her own power to animate desire.
When Stone Turned to Flesh
When Pygmalion returned home, the moonlight spilled across Galatea’s figure. He reached out, as he always did, and pressed his lips to hers. But this time, warmth met him. The hardness softened under his touch. Color returned to her cheeks. Her eyes opened, uncertain and alive.
He gasped, fell to his knees, and thanked the goddess. Galatea — no longer a dream but a woman — smiled and spoke his name. They married soon after, under Aphrodite’s blessing. From their union came Paphos, the city that would bear the goddess’s own temple.
Legacy of a Dream
In Pygmalion’s tale lives a truth older than stone: what we create with love may, one day, turn and love us back.
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