The spot is beautifully chosen.
We put him near those things of his
that he remembers maybe even there:
notes, texts, commentaries, variants,
voluminous studies of Greek idioms.
Also, this way, as we go to the books,
we’ll see, we’ll honour his tomb.
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Inside their worn, tattered bodies
How unhappy the poor things areand how bored by the pathetic life they live.How they tremble for fear of losing that life, and how muchthey love it, those befuddled and contradictory souls,sitting -half comic and half tragic-inside their old, threadbare skins.
He swears every now and then to begin a better life.
its own compromises and prospects-when night comes with its own powerof a body that needs and demands,he returns, lost, to the same fatal pleasure.
He came to read. Two or three books
But he only read for ten minutes,and gave them up. He is dozingon the sofa. He is fully devoted to booksbut he is twenty-three years old, and he’s very handsome;and this afternoon love passedthrough his ideal flesh, his lips.Through his flesh which is full of beautythe heat of love passed;without any silly shame for the…
When they saw Patroklos dead
the horses of Achilles began to weep;their immortal nature was upset deeplyby this work of death they had to look at.They reared their heads, tossed their long manes,beat the ground with their hooves, and mournedPatroklos, seeing him lifeless, destroyed,now mere flesh only, his spirit gone,defenseless, without breath,turned back from life to the great Nothingness.Zeus saw…
It goes on being Alexandria still. Just walk a bit
and you’ll see palaces and monuments that will amaze you.Whatever war-damage it’s suffered,however much smaller it’s become,it’s still a wonderful city.And then, what with excursions and booksand various kinds of study, time does go by.In the evenings we meet on the sea front,the five of us (all, naturally, under fictitious names)and some of the few…
Full of their success, thoroughly satisfied,
and his wife Queen Alexandramove through the streets of Jerusalemwith musicians in the leadand every kind of pomp and circumstance.The work begun by the great Judas Maccabaiosand his four celebrated brothershas now been concluded brilliantly,work relentlessly carried onamong so many obstacles and dangers.Nothing unseemly remains now.All subservience to the haughty monarchsof Antioch is over: clearlyKing…
The spot is beautifully chosen.
We put him near those things of his
that he remembers maybe even there:
notes, texts, commentaries, variants,
voluminous studies of Greek idioms.
Also, this way, as we go to the books,
we’ll see, we’ll honour his tomb.
Similar Posts
And if you can’t shape your life the way you want,
not to degrade itby too much contact with the world,by too much activity and talk.Try not to degrade it by dragging it along,taking it around and exposing it so oftento the daily sillinessof social events and parties,until it comes to seem a boring hanger-on.
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I’ve looked on beauty so much
The body’s lines. Red lips. Sensual limbs.Hair as though stolen from Greek statues,always lovely, even uncombed,and falling slightly over pale foreheads.Figures of love, as my poetry desired them. . . . in the nights when I was young,encountered secretly in my nights.
Winter, summer, the watchman sat there looking out
Now he has good news to report. He’s seen the fire light upin the distance and he’s happy; besides, the drudgery’s over now:it’s hard to sit there night and day in heat and cold,waiting for a fire to showon the peak of Arachnaion.Now the longed-for signal has appeared. Yet when happiness comesit brings less joy…
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