#on the front burner
“Many the peoples many the oceans I crossed— I arrive at these poor, brother, burials so I could give you the last gift owed to death and talk (why?) with mute ash. Now that Fortune tore you from me, you oh poor (wrongly) brother (wrongly) taken from me, now still anyway this—what a distant mood of parents handed down as the sad gift for burials— accept soaked with tears of a brother and into forever, brother, farewell and farewell.”— “Catullus 101” from Nox by Anne Carson
