Trafika Europe 12 - French Bon-Bons
UNEARTHING A STATUE OF ANTINOUS IN DELPHI, 1894
From here he hies to shrines the world over, and grants petitions of those who ask, sending remedies in dreams for those in need. (from the obelisk of Antinous in Rome)
Grit of sand in my teeth. Rasp of the cutting tool. Blurred cloud of your blurry, startled faces. Lethe flows through flesh and not through marble: I am still young—you’ve been old for ages. A note preserved my name; the earth, my shoulders’ form. You I neither pity nor resent. I simply slept. My mortal body plunged into the water’s depths, my ageless form emerged from earth, unharmed. Do you not dream of this, you diggers in caps, carrying crying babes to baptism in the domed apse?
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