Before the act, before the fact
he watched, as if the incentive
would have made him more attentive
as if to be aware the moment
of her death, would be to scare
away that yellow coil of snake
the gods had hidden; and by this act
would cause them to relent, that fate
would somehow defer to art
would be aware the doorways of his heart
would be unhinged, and leave him
no more likely than shadows in the dark.
But we must dance
to the play of happenstance
Life is a series
of unanswerable queries.
Whatever our position, they would pluck
dream apples from our mouths. Our patents
come to nought. It isn’t luck
or even talent that makes success,
but who paid the highest graft
or knew just whom they should caress.
His tears made billiards on the earth.
He played upon whatever instrument he knew
He called upon the powers of heaven.
But this is no tale whose ending
could be changed. It was not as though
he were deranged, but his music
had an air so melancholy
that the Maenads took it as folly.
Because it was so heart-rending.
they begged him to alter it,
and to try to be more jolly.
Better sometimes to let ourselves be led
than be torn to shreds;
Thus Orpheus would not give in
to Maenads’ wishes,
and so he ended as food for fishes.