The Victim of Aulis

The Victim of Aulis

The Victim of Aulis

A multitude of masts in the harbour.
The sails limp in the air, becalmed.
The tired sea barely moving.
   The sea breathes quietly, Agamemnon.
      The wind is dead.
The sunlight leaping the waters,
the waters lapping at the boats.
Heat haze.
The King prowls the still deck
back and fore while the Captains quarrel.
We only throw dice and curse.
   The child! The child!
The whisper of the sea, the secret of the sea;
the sea is dreaming and a tall slave sings.
   What are we to do?
      They will think of a way.
         We have had nothing of education
            We must obey, being little men.
               The cause is just.
                  Leave it to the Captains.
                     What does Calchas say?
                        The child! The child!
And we thinking of our own daughters
with clumsy father-pride,
though those other virgins are faceless now
indistinct as the mingling of voices,
as the shuffle of the sea,
the little sound of the sea.
   It has been a long time.
      Leave it to the priests.
Conference at Aulis […]