The Great Feast of Sosibios

My afternoon was stunning, simply
stunning. The oar touched down softly,

stroking the Alexandrian Sea.
Well-earned rest after morning’s difficulty.

May the earth remain as innocent and benign
as wistful evening falls. And there, no wine,

not a drop left in the bowl.
Time, dear one, to drift towards the waterfall.

A wine-flushed house (that of glorious
Sosibios and his good wife) calls to us.

We must return to the inevitable
and continue our dull political struggle.



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