(‘Idyll II’, Theocritus)
Where are my bay leaves and charms, my bowl with crimson flowerswhile he inexorablehas gone from my bed like a dressDistance: spells of fire wreathe you
Shine on this spin or graveas sight stunned me
leaves burnWheel of brass turning from my door
Now wave is still and wind is stillMy heart stopped in its foundry
As horses run, so we to itStarts love’s knife
who ... (read more)