Tuesday, May 10, 2011

Archilochus Fragment 184

In the hospitality of war
We left them their dead
As a gift to remember us by.

                                -- Trans. Guy Davenport


  1. He's the right poet for this job.

    Look, Glaukos, how heavy seawaves leap skyward!
    Over the Gyrai rocks
    hangs a black cloud, a signal of winter storm.
    From the unforeseen comes fear.

  2. Isn't it the truth? I was going through various poems last night after a confusing (aren't they all) day and that much was clear. However, the Lorine Niedecker poem I posted this morning with Jane's beautiful pictures (which enlarge nicely) seemed to speak to my personal situation, at least at the moment I was reading it. Things seems a little more cheerful now. It's a fabulous day here. I've been out only once, but will go out again shortly to try to repair some of winter's damage. By the way, I think I was just attacked on Facebook by an old acquaintance. It used to be that it could be unsafe to leave the house for fear of being attacked. Now, I guess everyone is everywhere. Curtis