ARDOR Literary Magazine

ARDOR Literary Magazine - Issue Three, September 2013

Issue One, Published January 2013

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FEATURED POETRY ISSUE THREE PROPERTIUS: ELEGIES, IV.3 (Arethusa Writes to Her Husband in Afghanistan) LEN KRISAK (TRANSLATION) I send you orders, my Lycotas,—"my," if I Can call one mine who's often far from here. Still, should any part of what you read seem blurred, The blot's a fault that lies with my salt tear. Or if some mark defeats your eye with its faint line, 5 My failing hand has left it for a sign. Now you're at Bactra's walls, which saw you just of late. You've fought the frozen Getae, Britons' painted Chariots, Chinese steeds in armored plate, And dark-skinned Indians washed by eastern waters. 10 Was this the troth you plighted me—its promised night— When I was young, surrendering to your arms? The fateful torch that led me to you stole its light From someone's caved-in funeral pyre embers, Styx sparged me, and my headband sat wrong on my hair. 15 The God of Marriages was never there. Oh, my offending offerings hang on every door, And here's the fourth camp-cloak I've woven you. Would he had died who first made raw bones into bugles, And pickets from some guiltless tree he tore. 20 He, more than Ocnus, ought to sit and twist rope-straw To feed some ass's maw for evermore. 29 | ARDOR

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