Names recalled now only in the poems of Pindar:O nearly unpronounceable immortals,In the dash, Oionos was champion:Oionos, Likmynios’s son, who came from Midea.In wrestling, Echemos won—the nameOf his home city, Tegea, proclaimed to the crowds.Doryklos of Tiryns won the prize in boxing,And the record for a four-horse team was setBy Samos from Mantinea, Halirothios’s son.And…
Calling on reason, fantasy, memory, eves and ears—As though they were all alike any moreThan sweeps, opticians, poets or masseurs.Moreover, they are for more than one reasonDifficult to speak of seriously and freely,And I have never (even this is difficult to sayPlainly, without foolishness or irony)Consulted one for professional help, though it happensMany or most…
Thirsty and languorous after their long black sleepThe old gods crooned and shuffled and shook their heads.Dry, dry. By railroad they set outAcross the desert of stars to drink the worldOur mouths had soakedIn the strange sentences we madeWhile they were asleep: a pollen-tintedSlurry of passion and lapsedIntention, whose imaginedTaste made the savage deities hiss…
