Ganymede Marc-Antoine Barrois 2019 Eau de Parfum

“Ganymede […] is the third and largest of the four Galilean moons […]” (Wikipedia)

“Ganymede, also known as Ganymedes, is in Greek mythology a son of the Trojan king Tros and Kallirrhoë […] and the ‘most beautiful of all mortals’. He was loved by Zeus.” (ibid.)

This must be how this fragrance was created:

On the rock lies, half awake, half asleep, Ganymede.
Through heavy eyelids, he sees how the midday sun, in playful complicity with the silver leaves of the olive tree, paints patterns on his skin, as if its rays were light brushes and the shadow of the leaves the color that they dab and throw and swirl.
His smile, which just moments ago was directed at his own beauty, falls dull from his lips, and in the midday heat, sleep overtakes him.
On his skin, at his forehead and chest, sparkling beads trickle; left behind, drying in the warmth, white traces. If he were to taste them, they would be salty - and sweet.

In his dream, he sees himself standing on the white beach. The view of the sea and into the distance. Far and far beyond that. He sees what lies behind all of this. What is to be discovered, what to fight for, to conquer, what to love, and his feet stand firmer now in the sand.
Then he hears a rustling and a blowing in the distance.
A hundred storms seem to merge into one.
Then the clouds gather, pile up, and form a dark heavy cloth. They surround him. They waft around him. They lay over him.

Then it becomes quiet.
Then he wakes up.
Then he lifts his eyelids.

On the stone, very close, the eagle. Its wings still spread from the mighty flight and the last gust of wind still sounds rustling in the feathers.
Neither of the two is startled. There is no need for that.
He is. And he is. Beautiful. Both.
The youthful masculinity of one. God-royal power of the other.
Deep are the eyes of the bird, and its gaze rests on the man.
The man supports himself on one arm, immerses his gaze in that of the bird, and with a careless movement, he rises from the stone on which he has rested and dreamed.
Then he stands there.

And as if the movements of the two were one, the bird opens its wings and encloses the man, wraps around him, embraces him. And holds him. And time. And time. And time passes.

Then he opens his wings.
“Why do you weep, Ganymede?”
“Because from now on I am a man.”
…
“And why do you weep, Zeus?”
“Because from now on I no longer want to be a god.”

And both tears mix on the ground.

This must be how this fragrance was created.