The Honey-Cry Hymn
by Nick Horton
She sang & tapped her feet upon the floor, In crimson, cloaked by implements of war, Trimly tracing shadows none can restore, Against the dead, she bid them rise once more. She ate of my flesh, her eyes dark & cast down; Sweet poison, spoiler of the taken town. My lips shivered, trembled, shattered by sound; By the burn of sudden sunlight underground. In cavernous places, her honey-cry hymn Triggered a dream I will never transcend. Shearing & tearing the walls from within: My wretched becoming in death without end.
- honey-cry hymn… from the Greek lyric poet Lasus, trans. by M.L. West
- Wrapped in a crimson cloak… from Sappho, trans. by M.L. West.
- “A dead man should be in our thoughts for no more than a day — if at all.”… Semonides of Amorgos, trans. by David Mulroy.
- … spoiler of the taken town… see A.E. Houseman’s “Soldier from the wars returning.”