BALLAD TO THE POETS OF THE AGES
by K. Kariotakis

HATED BY MEN AND GODS ALIKE,
LIKE NOBLEMEN WHO FELL, BITTER
WITHER THE VERLAINS; THE WEALTH
OF THEIR GOLDEN POETRY REMAINS.
THE HUGOS WITH "PUNISHMENTS" THE
OLYMPIANS' HORRID VENGEANCE CELEBRATE.
BUT I WILL WRITE A DOLEFUL BALLAD
TO THE POETS WHO FAMELESS REMAIN.

IF THE POETS LIVED IN MISERY AND PAIN,
AND THE BAUDELAIRES DISCOVERED WHEN DEAD,
THEIR NAMES IN THE AGES REMAIN.
BUT NO ONE WILL EVER REMEMBER,
AND THICK THE OBSCURITY NOW COVERS,
THE RHYMERS WHO WERE RHYMING IN VAIN.
BUT I, LIKE HOLY MEMORIAL, OFFER THIS BALLAD
TO THE POETS WHO FAMELESS REMAIN.

THE EARTHLY REJECTION IS THEIR BURDEN,
AND THEY WALK INFLEXIBLE AND PALE,
IN THEIR GRANDIOSE ILLUSION TAKEN
THAT GLORY IN THEIR FUTURE AWAITS,
A MAIDEN SO THOUGHTFUL AND SO GAY.
BUT KNOWING HOW ALL WILL FORGET THEM,
NOSTALGICALLY I LAMENT THIS SAD BALLAD
TO THE POETS WHO FAMELESS REMAIN.

AND IN SOME DISTANT FUTURE TIME:
" WHO WAS THIS UNKNOWN POET," WISH THEY SAY,
"WHO WROTE SUCH A MEAGER BALLAD
TO THE POETS WHO FAMELESS REMAIN?"