Skip to content
Give readers a window on the world. Click to donate.
from the September 2005 issue

Tiresias’s Farewell

From unexpiated sins
poems are born. That's why you sent down
thickening darkness on my eyes.
A spiral staircase carries me to countries under the earth -
republics of shadow, kingdoms of grayness.
The girl waiting by the stairs
is a replica of that other Theban servant girl.
Only from loudspeakers the insistent splinters
of their music. Still lives
Lose their color, turn cold, and now I no longer wish
to reach the pear or the pomegranate,
like the tired dog of a gardener
denying myself and others the nourishment of a verse.

Read more from the September 2005 issue
Like what you read? Help WWB bring you the best new writing from around the world.