MELANCHOLY OF JASON KLEANDROS
POET IN KOMMAGINI, 595 A.D.
The aging of my body and my face
is a wound from a dreadful knife.
I have no perseverance at all.
I fall back on you, Art of Poetry,
that knows something about potions,
trying to dull the pain through Fantasy and Language…
It is a wound from a dreadful knife.—
Art of Poetry bring your potions,
that make—for a moment—the pain go away.