Mary Jane White: Axe
Always the trapped smell of sunlight
& the oiled axe to split the last of the kindling
& the bank’s rippled edge & the heavy suckerfish
Thomas Bulfinch: Simonides
On one occasion, when the poet was residing at the court of Scopas, king of Thessaly, the prince desired Simonides to prepare a poem in celebration of his exploits, to be recited at a banquet.
Christopher Bursk: The Procession to the Palace of King Neptune
How could a man, barnacled as rock
at low tide, rank as seaweed,
have a story worth listening to
by a prince enamored of the moon?
Edna St. Vincent Millay: Oh, sleep forever in the Latmian cave
Oh, sleep forever in the Latmian cave,
Mortal Endymion, darling of the Moon!
Stephen Dobyns: Persephone, Etc.
Wasn’t it beneath this spot the son of Kronos
pursued his inamorata, holding out a handful
of shining seeds?
Doug Anderson: Cyclops
Now a boy leads him by the hand down from the mountain to sit on the docks and listen to the sailors curse. Poor Polyphemus, they say, turning away from … Continue reading