Tristia 5.10

 

Romania

Stare putes, adeo procedunt tempora tarde,
et peragit lentis passibus annus iter

Three years I’ve been here now
three times the sea has

frozen thawed again
time passes in reverse

up here (it seems)
the shortest day

lasts longer than
the longest night

at home
nowhere is safe

the gangs descend
in migratory flocks

to test our walls
we gather cartridge cases

in the streets
like grain

farmers wear helmets
sheep fear war

not predators
I have to talk in signs

even to neighbours
here I’m the simpleton

nodding
as they mock me

to my face

Posted by Ovid at 9:07 am