Pomona was a goddess of woodfruits. It is said that she did not like either forests or fields and spent all the time in her garden taking care of fruit trees. Pomona's passion was all over her garden, but she kept the men away from her, no matter how hard they tried to seduce Pomona with satires. The most loved was the beautiful Pomona Vertumn, the god of the seasons, but she was also cold to him.
Vertumn appeared before her differently: the way the reaper brought her compressed ears, the way the ploughman dragged a heavy deaf ear, the way the gardener appeared with a sickle in his hands ... The warrior with the sword, the fisherman with the fishing rod - what was the image of Pomona's god, but she remained indifferent to all his faces. Finally, having turned into a decrepit old woman, Vertumn came to the garden of Pomona and, having praised the poured out fruits, sat down to rest.
Seeing the elm with the vine wrapped around it, Vertumn began to say to his beloved: "Whenever the vine and the elm were not together, we would only admire the view of his naked trunk, but the vine would unwittingly lie on the ground. But you do not look at them, Pomona, you are still alone, though you have more grooms than Elena the Beautiful or Ulysses' wife Penelope! But if you are clever and expect only a good marriage, choose from all of Vertumnus, the one who loves you more than anyone else.
And just so you know better than I do, I'll tell you a story about what happened in Cyprus. There was a noble woman named Anaxaretha who fell in love with her at first sight. In various ways he tried to get the attention of the proud beauty, but she remained harder than iron and harder than stone. She rejected him and mocked him.
"Well, you won, from now on I won't bother you. Die! Have fun, iron heart! - The desperate Ephis said and hanged himself on the ceiling of her house.
The funeral procession carrying the body to the fire was just past Anaksareta's house. She went out to the window, but when she saw the body of Iphis on the stretcher, she pale and tried to hide. It did not work out - the stone that was in her heart, by the will of the vengeful gods, gradually took up the whole body and Anaksaretha turned into a statue. Remember, nymph, this story, and I beg you, put aside your pride!
And with such words Vertumnus took his true form. Pomona looked at the beautiful young man and loved him as much as he loved her.