Aeneid Book II, 526-58 Latin-English translation by Margherita Galli

suppliant’s right of sanctuary and the gods on whose protection the king relies. His hybris is in striking contrast with the pietas showed to Priam by Achilles.

Aeneid, Book II, 526-58 translated by Margherita Galli ENGLISH

Yet now, having escaped Phyrrus’s carnage, Polites, one of Priam’s own sons, fled the darts and the enemies under the long arcades and across the empty halls, his wounds gaping open. Phyrrus chased him, burning for the blow that kills, when now he grabbed him by the hand and pushed his spear through his body. When at last Polites came under his parents’ gaze, he fell, and let his life spill out with much blood. Though death may already have marked him for her own, Priam did not yet hold back, nor did he save his voice and rage: “For this crime,” he cried out, “for such unlawful deeds may the gods, if there be any dignity in heaven to attend to such matters, render you due thanks and reward you as is most fitting, who forced me to witness my son’s death with my own eyes and defiled a father’s face with your butchery. But Achilles, of whose stock you falsely claim to be the progeny, was not so merciless to his enemy Priam, but he paid homage to the rights and trust of a petitioner, and returned Hector’s lifeless body for the burial and allowed me to go back to my kingdoms.” Having said this, the old man weakly threw a harmless spear that quickly bounced off the hollow-sounding bronze, hanging down uselessly from the boss of the shield. To him Phyrrus said: “Be then my messenger to the son of Peleus, my father,

implicuitque comam laeva, dextraque coruscum extulit ac lateri capulo tenus abdidit ensem. haec finis Priami fatorum, hic exitus illum sorte tulit Troiam incensam et prolapsa videntem Pergama, tot quondam populis terrisque superbum regnatorem Asiae. iacet ingens litore truncus, avulsumque umeris caput et sine nomine corpus. LATIN

be the one to relay news of these events to him. Pray do not forget to give him an account of my most horrid feats and of Neoptolemus degenerate. Now die.” As he said these words he dragged trembling Priam to his very own altars, slipping on the pool made by his son’s blood, grabbed his hair with his left hand, drew his flashing sword with his right and buried it up to the hilt into his side. This was the conclusion assigned to Priam’s destiny, he met the end allotted to him while Troy was on fire, his eyes on Pergamon’s ruins, he who had once been the proud sovereign of so many lands and the peoples of Asia. A large trunk now lies on the beach, a head severed from the shoulders and a nameless body. ENGLISH

The Art of Disappearing ENGLISH

Naomi Shihab Nye

Naomi Shihab Nye’s “The Art of Disappearing” is taken from her collection Words Under the Words: Selected Poems. In an age which celebrates

58 When they say Don’t I know you? say no.

When they invite you to the party remember what parties are like before answering. Someone telling you in a loud voice they once wrote a poem. Greasy sausage balls on a paper plate. Then reply.

If they say We should get together say why?

It’s not that you don’t love them anymore. You’re trying to remember something too important to forget. Trees. The monastery bell at twilight. Tell them you have a new project. It will never be finished.

When someone recognizes you in a grocery store nod briefly and become a cabbage. When someone you haven’t seen in ten years appears at the door, don’t start singing him all your new songs. You will never catch up.

Walk around feeling like a leaf. Know you could tumble any second. Then decide what to do with your time.