fr. 8 [that lucky old Sun]

Look: up every bone every sky every day every you— he goes working his way up blue earlobes from ocean goes thrown by rosesudden someone’s already tomorrow goes riding his bed of daysided gold goes skimming sleep countries from west to east until sudden rosestopped someone’s already earliness opens the back of the clock: he steps in.

fr. 5 [a sudden unspeakable sweat]

Sweat. It’s just sweat. But I do like to look at them. Youth is a dream where I go every night and wake with just this little jumping bunch of arteries in my hand. Hard, darling, to be sent behind their borders carrying a stone in each eye.

fr. 4 [for poor Tithonos]

They (on the one hand) made his chilly tears immortal neglecting to tell him his eyes were not.

Translated from the Greek by ANNE CARSON