by Brett Rutherford
After Callimachus, Aetia
Some kings will do anything, once
tempted by a good prospect.
“Drain not the blessed lake
of Camarina!”
an oracle proclaimed. What then
some foolish elders did,
to someone’s profit, was just that.
Of course, the city fell.
by Brett Rutherford
After Theognis, Elegaic Poems 293-294
To get what you prefer
above all other things to eat,
and endlessly, is not
the best of all possible worlds.
Not even the Lion
eats every day, and meat,
perhaps, is not his only wish.
That mouth, incarnadine,
might just as well
be stained with pomegranate!
Some days the Lion is out sorts
in indigestion’s agony.
Some days, the sun and wind
are just so splendid
that merely to recline
and flick one’s tail
suffices.
by Brett Rutherford
Adapted from Leonidas, The Greek Anthology, vi, 262
There was never enough meat for me.
Night after night the flock I slew.
By day I raided the cattle-pen
and sent the herdsmen running.
The howling of dogs did not deter me;
by fang and claw
I reduced their number.
(Unfit to eat, I left them
for crows and scorpions.)
One night as I crept silently
toward a sheep-fold,
Eualces the Cretan
rose up and killed me.
Just like that!
Now from this pine I hang
and rot. Winds
tear off tufts of my fur,
and birds annoy me.
Each day there is less of me.
My shadow, four legs in leap,
a terror for all, thins out.
Now no one looks up
and cries, “Lion!”
