But when she showed up later with the kid
Who peeked between her breasts, who had my nose,
I knew he’d walk through fire for me: he did.
What do you tell a goddess who you’ve laid
Who shows up twelve months later with a son?
The past, the future, cannot be repaid
And who could tell? Not me, not anyone.
All parents form one link in life’s long chain
All city-burning tragedies are fate
Lares and Penates saved will still remain
But wisdom is a gift that comes too late.
Speak, goddess, you could tell a guy your name,
Before you granted us eternal fame.
17th August 2013