Where to now, Fathers?
The fires of Olympus, long
Extinguished, disappeared
Into the night, smokeless.
Where now, are the sons of
The great Thunderer, to whom,
Once, whole of mankind sung
Hymns of glory, in mad joy?
Where is the Spirit, all-animating,
That once swum and flew, tearing
Waters, splitting sky? Where the
Holy, the exuberant, the lifeblood?
Stillness permeates the woods, the
Rivers, the mountain-peaks. Whereto
Is gone, the humming of wind-strings,
The somber tune of heavenly harps?
I hear silence, the lifeless daemon, that
Makes every house its home, tearing
Asunder, in secret, the holy bondage
Of love and friendship, of family.
Animated, in madness, in abyssal hate,
The world revolves around itself,
Endlessly entertained by its device,
Procured by fools, hellishly powerful.
Wordless the temples, empty the schools,
And streets, void of child’s play, echo
Sadness. The weathercock clatter in mute
Winds, and, as the Sun sets, glistering flowers
Weep, wither and die. The night is long and
Light-less, cold. Endless, as well. Bereft of
Love, of friendship, I lay still; embraced by
The stars, I am lulled to sleep, fitful and eternal.