Thursday, January 24, 2008
I have not idea why I had the urge to look up this poem and translate it. I had heard the last two lines in passing a long time ago but it has come back to haunt me the past two weeks. Your comments and insights are very welcome! I’m hanging on the morning gallows and my brow, with death, is bowed Because I have not bowed it.. it is alive! Oh my brothers who are crossing the square with their heads down Descending at the evening’s end down the street of Alexander the Great Do not be ashamed..... Sign in
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