The Wise Men of Troy


Winding and winding down a path
Never teacheth but learneth the wise men of troy
Yet no experience enough
For they
No thought coincide
Nor a feeling reacheth height
The wise men of troy
Who but the eagle or perhaps
Resourceful Ulysses
To teach of hell’s end to they
The wise men of troy
Of lies and asunder
Down to a earthless shawl

Yet never learneth they, the wise men
Of vanquished troy
One amongst them lived their ignorance
And survived
Called mighty Aeneas
He doth learn and realized
What they dared not
And he teacheth
To the wise men of Latium
The meaning of war,
Of rape and pillage
And of the effortless cruel
Yet they forget
The wise men of fair rome
The forget soon and long

Taketh but atilla, and the Goths
To teach for victory’s sake
The art of war

What say thou of Aurelius, of Augustus?
Claimeth they know thy art
they possessed but never realized
The fruits of their toils

What shalt men do then
What shalt they learn
If not of art and women
The tales of temperance and warmth
Perhaps the longings of Fyodor
Or the cries of the moon

Never knows nor realizes
And none among men
Teaches
Nor learns
Enough to satisfy thy cruelty’s ravageous tongue,
Do they?
Or cursed to wander in self-awarded wisdom
Like they the vanquished, the fallen
The wise men of Troy