Site icon Alexander Hammil

Minor Prophets’ Lament

Have I not worked, o ye great gods and little fishes?
Have I not toiled in your honor these seven years?
Have I not spread your hands upon the groaning table?

Seven years of labor; seven of effort.
Seven years of self-denial: where were you then?
Seven years of desire; seven of effort.

When it was time to build the poles, I built the poles.
When it was time to build the altars, I built the altars.
When it was time to set the fires, my clear voice called out to you and the fires came.

I have hidden in the rocky places of the mountains.
I have hidden in the sterile places of the oceans.
I have hidden in the squalor of the towns.

At your word I have gone unhomed under the stars.
At your word I have lived as a wild ass, and fed upon grasses.
At your word I have made myself reviled, a byword among my enemies.

Is it not enough, o ye little fishes and great gods?
Is it not enough, o ye ravening Juggernauts?
Is it not enough?

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