Arion

A lot of us were on the bark:

Some framed a sail for windy weather,

The others strongly and together

Moved oars. In silence sunk,

Keeping a rudder, strong and clever,

The skipper drove the heavy skiff;

And I — with careless belief —

I sang for sailors… . But the stiff

Whirl smashed at once the waters' favor…

All dead — the captain and his guard! —

But I, the enigmatic bard,

Was thrown to the shore alone.

I sing the former anthems, yet,

And dry my mantle, torn and wet,

In beams of sun under a stone.