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The soft quem quam will be Scops the Owl
conjugation of nouns, a line of enquiry,
powdery stubble of the socratic prison
laurels crack like parchments in the wind.
who walks here in the violet dust at night
by the tower of the winds and water-clocks?
tapers smoke upon open coffins
surely the shattered pitchers must one day
revive in the gush of marble breathing up?
call again softly, and again.
the fresh spring empties like a vein
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Dr Antony Theodore 23 August 2019
and among the tombs gnawing of mandolines confounding sleep with carnage where strangers arrive like sleepy gods dismount at nightfall at desolate inns. those who have gone to visit Acropolis may understand this poem very well.. tony
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Pradip Chattopadhyay 11 February 2011
Could someone help me with the interpretation. I find it incomprehensible!
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