(310/305 BC / Cyrene, Ancient Libya)

A Blessed Life - Poem by Callimachus

Whoe'er shall to this tomb draw nigh,
Behold, in death, a priestess lie;
I sacred Ceres first implor'd,
The great Cabiri next ador'd,
Grew old on Dindymene's plains,
And now my dust alone remains.
Alive, I seldom fail'd to lead
The sprightly dance along the mead;
I bore two sons, I ran my race,
And dy'd with joy, in their embrace.
Go friend; prepare for life's decline;
And may thy death be blest as mine.

Topic(s) of this poem: death

Comments about A Blessed Life by Callimachus

  • Edward Kofi Louis (1/14/2016 1:45:00 AM)

    Death! Seen around us; because, death is part of us. Nice work. (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Thursday, January 14, 2016

Poem Edited: Thursday, January 14, 2016

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