Translation

Note: this is a mix of a literal and idiomatic translation, but mostly literal. Some phrases have been reordered/reworded for clarity.

Meanwhile, he carved snow-white ivory and with remarkable skill, he happily gave beauty with which no mortal woman is able to be born, and imagined love for his own creation. Her appearance is that of a real maiden, that you would believe lives and if modesty did not stand in the way, wishes to be moved. Truly, his art lies hidden under its own artistry. Pygmalion marveled, and drank dry the passion for the counterfeited body in his chest. Often his testing hand moved towards his creation, [so that he wondered] whether this body was [actually] ivory, not confessing that it is ivory yet. He gives kisses and thinks to return and speaks and holds and believes that his fingers grip into her touched limbs, and he fears that bruises might come to the having been pressed body, and now he addresses compliments [to it], now he carries pleasing gifts and shells and smooth pebbles to this girl and small insects and flowers of a thousand colors, lilies and painted beads and fallen tears of the Heliades from the tree; he also adorns the body with clothes, he gives jewels to her fingers, he gives long necklaces to her neck, smooth pearls hang from her ears, bands hang around her chest. All of this is fitting; she appears no less beautiful than if she were naked. He arranges this statue in a bed dyed with Sidonian shells and calls it the companion of his bed, and lays its head to rest in soft feather pillows, as if it could feel them.

The festival day of Venus, most celebrated by all of Cyprus, came, and young cows who were led in with curved horns spread with gold fell to blows on their ivory necks. Incense was burning. When he had performed to the altars with offerings, he stood and fearfully said, “If you, gods, are able to give all things, I choose it to be a wife—” not daring to say “ivory maiden”, Pygmalion said, “similar to my ivory maiden.” Golden Venus, as she herself approached her own festivities, felt that which those prayers wished and, a sign of friendly divinity, the flame was kindled three times. She led the tip [of the flame] through the air.

As he returned, he seeks this statue of his girl and leaning forward on the bed, he gave kisses: she seemed to be warm. He moves his mouth again, he also touches her chest with his hands: the having been touched ivory softens and, the hardness having been put aside, it subsides to his fingers and falls, as wax from Mount Hymettius becomes soft again in the sun and having been pulled by a thumb it is bent into many forms, and becomes useful by use itself.

While he is amazed, and dubiously rejoices, and fears being deceived, loving despite this, he undertakes again the object of his prayers with his hand. It was flesh! Her veins, touched by his thumb, leap.

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