by Brett Rutherford
Adapted from
Julianus, Prefect of Egypt, The Greek Anthology, vi, 28
Sparing the fish from
this day forward,
I, Baeto, old and trembling,
leave everything to Hermes —
the rods, the oar, the hooks,
a weighted net as large
as any man could handle,
the floats, the well-worn creels,
even the dark stone, fire’s mother
from which I brought that element
to warm cold nights ashore.
I am done with the sea, done
altogether, so here,
to make an end to sear-faring,
I bequeath you my anchor,
the one true thing that kept
my unstable craft in place.
