Insomnia. Homer. Taut canvas

POSTED IN classic poetry July 8, 2015

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Insomnia. Homer. Taut canvas

Insomnia. Homer. Taut canvas
Half the catalogue of ships is mine:
that flight of cranes, long stretched-out line,
that once rose, out of Hellas.

To an alien land, like a phalanx of cranes –
Foam of the gods on the heads of kings –
Where do you sail?  What would the things
of Troy, be to you, Achaeans, without Helen?

The sea, or Homer – all moves by love’s glow.
Which should I hear? Now Homer is silent,
and the Black Sea thundering its oratory, turbulent,
and, surging, roars against my pillow.

Osip Mandelstam