Hub of the Wheel



You can’t differentiate ‘tween one bird or other
Or a dreaded soul or another,
They are all black harbingers of woe,
Parade of ravens. Theban woe,
Lydian. Universal.

‘That rock is crying, look!
 ‘What rock? I see none!
 ‘That one, within the caves over the hideous mounts.
 ‘It’s no stone dear. Don’t be so rude!
 ‘Why you cry, mulier?
 ‘I still feel it,
 ‘my tears are stll warm:
 ‘Saline and the moans heart touching —
 ‘They arise from heart.
 ‘how can you expect a stone, connect to a heart!’
‘O then ‘twas my fault!
 ‘Ζητώ συγγνωμη! συγχώρεση!’
______________ ‘Ha, ha..
 ‘And do you presume I won’t forgive you?
 ‘Nay! I’m not so stoned a heart as the myths,
 ‘myths they are!
 ‘ω, γιοι μου, τις κόρες μου, το αίμα μου, την υπερηφάνεια’
 ‘Now I pride in being real and the pain;
 ‘I pity them:
 ‘Some retarded minds’ wanton.’
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