"Six months have gone since people here
Knew any touch of joy;
The gods now play a devil's game,
And we, their ill-used toy.
You do not know, O Roman man,
The horrors that we know.
The things we've seen no man must see
Nor meet with such a foe.
Our young men and our womenfolk
Have never known such fear;
You chose to seek a town of death
When you did venture here.
Six months have gone since first we saw
Persephone's deadly spawn,
Since first our sons were torn from us;
What gods we have, how treacherous
Was shown that bloody morn.
Ignorant are you, O man,
How ignorant and blind!
What have you known, what could you know
Of that which plagues our kind?"
The people wept, the soldier stood,
The chieftain grew more pale.
A dread air hung about the place
As the chief began their tale.
MacKillop-Woods Way Pilgrimage 2018 – Day Seven (22 April) – Narooma to Bodalla via Potato Point - I woke early before dawn on Sunday morning having slept like a log in the big comfortable bed at Marg Latimer’s home. The good food and wine and company (a...
5 hours ago