You must remember never to offend the gods
by being too sure of anything.
Think of Niobe, how she grew in pride
watching her seven tall sons and seven fair daughters.
...
Now the year ends darkly.
The sun drifts in the south.
Will it ever return?
...
This is the village where we grew
Our fathers and their sires in line
The trees they planted shade the view
And the white houses shine.
...
My house is torn down--
Plaster sifting, the pillars broken,
Beams jagged, the wall crushed by the bulldozer.
The whole roof has fallen
...