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Nina Kossman

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Cassandra to Agamemnon

I’ve warned you of the bloodbath:
a bath, with your blood in it, literally.
But there you go, blundering right in,
no hand of fate can stop you,
the hand that wants you dead.
And I, who will be killed soon after you,
why should I care – when, or whose hand.
So don’t stall – go on, go in,
step blindly into your matron’s trap,
hero of the great war, great murderer yourself.
Before I die, I’ll see you flounder,
like a fat carp, in the fishnet of your queen.
But what is this water in my eyes?
My eyes that have seen my brothers killed,
My city razed, before and after.
Nobody weeps for you, therefore I will,
I, Cassandra.

*

See how nothing
keeps out of Pluto’s gorge,
silently drifts
towards it, waits, sinks
into the thickening dark,
the unreflecting water,
grave made of mud and stones:
this way – to hide lizard shadows,
that way – to rob of flesh.
Although mercy’s an unprofitable profession,
save me from too much death.

Translated by Nina Kossman

Page(s) 103

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