Now, I can die
For I have seen the truth.
Last year’s calendar timed
The cures of my cecity:
My eyes, helios torched them
With medicinal rays – and
And I distinguished revolutions
The bona fide from the forged,
Having been cruelly schooled by
Old Thucydides’ learned maxim:
Large nations do what they wish,
Small nations accept what they must.
This year on, I can now rest in peace
For I have seen the purity of light:
Am no longer duped, drugged
By filmed negatives of the sun.