Those ancients who in poetry presented
the golden age, who sang its happy state,
perhaps, in their Parnassus, dreamt this place.
Here, mankind's root was innocent; and here
were every fruit and never-ending spring;
these streams--the nectar of which poets sing.

The land upon which the goddesses descended –the land that was the locus of the divine activity –came to be known as the Sacred Realm, which can be taken almost as the Zelda version of the Garden of Eden.

In the morning of the world," he said, "when the dew still lay upon the Garden, man was created so that there might be some one to enjoy it. In order that he might relish beauty, he was given a soul; and having a soul, he was given speech, since without speech, it is impossible to understand such abstractions as the soul. That was a mistake, but I do not see how it could have been avoided.

Eden is a factory and human was a reject.
We are being recalled in order to be fixed.

O anima cortese mantoana
Di cui la fama ancor nel mondo dura,
E durera quanto 'l moto lontana

Love, that moves the sun and the other stars