Full title: Theris, the old man who lived by his fish traps.
By Leonidas of Tarentum, somewhere in Greece, circa 300 BCE.
Theris, the old man who lived by his fish traps
And nets, more at home on the sea than a gull,
The terror of fishes, the net hauler, the prober
Of sea caves, who never sailed on a many-oared ship
Died in spite of Arcturus. No storm shipwrecked
His many decades. He died in his reed hut,
And went out by himself like a lamp at the
End of his years. No wife or child set up this
Tomb, but his fishermen’s union.
By Tymnes, somewhere in Greece, circa 300 BCE.
He came from Malta; and Eumelus says
He had no better dog in all his days,
He called him Bull; he went into the dark,
Along those roads we cannot hear him bark.
My favorite passage from The Iliad:
And the water’s diamond head
Shut over Achilles, locked round his waist
Film after film of sopping froth, then
Heaved him sideways up while multitudinous crests
Bubbled around his face, blocked his nostrils with the blood
He shed an hour before.
But hey, as long as your heel doesn’t hurt. . .