This text is a translation not by Volodarskaya, but by I.A. Egorov; the Borges texts missing in the file were translated by B.V. Dubin. Edition: St. Petersburg: Amphora, 2000

Book by Robert Graves (1895– 1985) - poet, novelist, folklorist, translator, author of historical novels and monographs on mythology - is a study of ancient religions and myths, filtered through a rich poetic imagination. Experts may not agree with Graves' methods and conclusions, but one cannot help but succumb to the charm of his amazing work, which recreates a certain single image of the mother goddess that underlies all mythologies.

'The Goddess is a beautiful, slender Woman with a hooked nose, deathly pale face, scarlet lips, striking blue eyes and long blond hair. She can turn into a pig, a mare, a bitch, a fox, a donkey, a weasel, a snake, an owl, a she-wolf, a tigress, a mermaid or a disgusting old hag. She has countless names and nicknames. She is called the White Lady in ghost stories, and the White Goddess in ancient beliefs from the British Isles to the Caucasus Mountains. I do not remember a single real poet, starting with Homer, who, independently of anyone else, would not have left his own testimony about Her. It can be said that an indicator of poetic vision is the accuracy with which the poet depicts the White Goddess and the island where She rules. That is why, when you read genuine poetry, your hair stands on end, your eyes water, a lump rises in your throat, goosebumps run across your skin and your back goes cold. True poetry is the incantation of the White Goddess or Muse, the Mother of all things, a power anciently feared and desired, like the spider or the queen bee, whose embrace brings death.'Robert Graves, King Jesus