On Anonymous Age

“ϑανεῖν δ’ οἷσιν ἀνάγκα, τά κέ τις ἀνώνυμον γῆρας ἐν σκότῳ καϑήμενος ἕψοι μάταν, ἁπάντων καλῶν ἄμμορος;”                                                             Pindar, Olymp. I, 82–84

Age bares, and then comes winter since you’re old
And nakedness subzero is no fun
Yet there’s this little solace in the cold
Which is the barging in of a poor sun.

I’d rather shun the open, void, and vast
To huddle in the nest I’ve built for me
To let embalming dark protect at last
Creätures’ dear vulnerability.

Name, this false shield, like liquor, when it rings:
What worse disgrace than status for the geezer?
Old flesh keeps fresh and frisky in the freezer
But rots in comfort like all human things.

Don’t ever trust in Pindar’s fame unless
Thou fear’st man’s universal namelessness.

October 18, 2026

[Picasso, Pindar]