the sea engulfed a sailor in its depths. Unaware, his mother goes and lights a tall candle before the ikon of our Lady
The sea engulfed a sailor in its depths.
Unaware, his mother goes and lights
a tall candle before the ikon of our Lady,
praying for him to come back quickly, for the weather to be good—
her ear cocked always to the wind.
While she prays and supplicates,
the ikon listens, solemn, sad,
knowing the son she waits for never will come back.
(July 1896)
(translation: Edmund Keeley and Philip Sherrard)
the asymmetry of ruin: scalability and lack of friction can turn ordinary mistakes into terminal events
I am no stranger to you. I was born in Troy, and the blood you see is oozing from no tree...
one climbs a small mountain just to see oneself surrounded by higher mountains that await our approach
in The Aeneid, we find a seamless fluidity that is indifferent to the translator
I publish slowly and irregularly