Cinis Cineris (Ashes)
On one of the first cool days
summer’s end
a breeze in the smithy
Marcus didn’t appear
Best bellows-boy
I ever had
Small pup of a boy
Didn’t talk much
Never complained
I went to see his tata
Crude bastard
Apprenticed all his whelps
Hard-handed man
I know, from the bruises
the boy sometimes brought to work
He was in his cups
Told me Marcus died
in the night
I told him
he didn’t seem sick
just yesterday
Aquilo blew through the house
was all he would say
Gave him death fever
The north wind?
That don’t make
the slightest sense
The cool last night
and today
was soft autumn
Aquilo took him
he said
again
Did you beat him too hard?
I don’t want no cacat
about the wind
Watch your mouth, citizen
He got a vicious look
in his eye
I wanted to dash
his damn cup
in his face
But Marcus would still be gone
When will you burn him? I asked
I’ll come, pay my respects
Fever, I told you, he said
No burning
We put him in the river
I couldn’t take
no more
Went back to the smithy
Scattered ashes on the bellows
where he’d worked
Said a prayer to Juventus
Let his shade be at peace
A good boy
Deserved better
I felt the cool breeze
and pumped up the fires
on my own
_________________________________
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_____________________________________
On one of the first cool days
summer’s end
a breeze in the smithy
Marcus didn’t appear
Best bellows-boy
I ever had
Small pup of a boy
Didn’t talk much
Never complained
I went to see his tata
Crude bastard
Apprenticed all his whelps
Hard-handed man
I know, from the bruises
the boy sometimes brought to work
He was in his cups
Told me Marcus died
in the night
I told him
he didn’t seem sick
just yesterday
Aquilo blew through the house
was all he would say
Gave him death fever
The north wind?
That don’t make
the slightest sense
The cool last night
and today
was soft autumn
Aquilo took him
he said
again
Did you beat him too hard?
I don’t want no cacat
about the wind
Watch your mouth, citizen
He got a vicious look
in his eye
I wanted to dash
his damn cup
in his face
But Marcus would still be gone
When will you burn him? I asked
I’ll come, pay my respects
Fever, I told you, he said
No burning
We put him in the river
I couldn’t take
no more
Went back to the smithy
Scattered ashes on the bellows
where he’d worked
Said a prayer to Juventus
Let his shade be at peace
A good boy
Deserved better
I felt the cool breeze
and pumped up the fires
on my own
_________________________________
Return to Ferrum Table of Contents
_____________________________________
Click here to read next poem: Ferus Fabula
_____________________________________