By Night and Lamp

by Brett Rutherford

    after Meleager, Greek Anthology V, 8

After so many nights,

so many sighs, so

many love-cries flung

echoing into the courtyard,

we made a solemn oath

to love and be true

to one another.

Poor as the poorest

first-year students,

what had we there

to swear by?

                         Night,

the starry night itself

we swore by, and by

the fluttering lamp

with which we found

one another's limbs

to press together,

by these we pledged.

Were you my witness,

Night? Do you remember,

Lamp, cold now in my hand

as I refill the oil?

He sits across from me,

not eating the meal

I sold my best ring to buy,

and says his mind has changed.

"Your oath!" I moan.

"To Night?" he laughs.

"To one night passing,

yes, it made you love

me better. But Day

erases Night.

Who knows what comes

tomorrow?"

                      "The Lamp?"

"It was out before

I kissed you goodbye.

New day, new wick,

new love, I say."

Shrugging, he rises,

and turns his back to me.

Fickle as running water, he!

Later, I write. The door

is open to the common

corridor. Voices I hear.

My lamp turned up, I see

three figures passing.

Someone's door opens,

closes. From there

inside, his laughter rises.

I need no Lamp to see,

eyes closed, how two on one

undress him and have their way.

Mock me, O Lamp and Night,

I have learned my lesson.