I have chosen this week’s poem in honour of my friend and relative by marriage Michael, whose legacy of kindness and patience is enviable.
Still are thy pleasant voices, thy nightingales, awake;
Callimachus (310 BC—240 BC), translated by William Johnson Cory (1823—1892)
For Death, he taketh all away, but them he cannot take.
Poem 318. Heraclitus
They told me, Heraclitus, they told me you were dead;
They brought me bitter news to hear and bitter tears to shed;
I wept as I remembered how often you and I
Had tired the sun with talking, and sent him down the sky.
And now that thou art lying, my dear old Carian guest,
A handful of grey ashes, long, long ago at rest,
Still are thy pleasant voices, thy nightingales, awake;
For Death, he taketh all away, but them he cannot take.
Callimachus was an ancient Greek poet whose verse influenced Roman poets and through them Western literature. In this poem he mourns the loss of his friend, the philosopher Heraclitus. It was translated by the Victorian writer William Johnson Cory.
The first stanza shows us the initial shock of discovering that someone close to us has died—that sensation of “bitter news” and the “bitter tears” that we weep when we hear it and remember the times spent together talking into the night.
The second stanza is more reflective and we see Callimachus resigned to his bereavement and musing on his friend’s legacy: though Heraclitus may be ashes and dust, his voice and the ideas it conveyed—“thy nightingales”—remain so that although we lose every physical vestige of the dead, their thoughts and deeds live on as their legacy.
A quick note: Heraclitus is described as “Carian”—Caria was a historical area of Ionia, part of modern Turkey and it is thought that Homer coined the word “barbarian” with reference to the unintelligibility of the Carian language. Heraclitus saw the world as constantly changing from one state to another and he originated the idea generally phrased as “you cannot step into the same river twice.”
I like this poem because it is apposite to anyone who has died—they may pass on, but we keep them in our hearts and our minds and, like Kipling’s school teachers, “their work continueth” and their legacy is assured.
Bless and praise we famous men—
Rudyard Kipling, A School Song.
Men of little showing—
For their work continueth,
And their work continueth,
Broad and deep continueth,
Great beyond their knowing!
Last month Kenton reached out via Facebook to ask for our thoughts and memories to help Mike through a tough time and cheer him up. Scores of comments poured in from Mike’s colleagues at work, his fellow martial artists and reenactors, the students he taught and his family and friends, and he was able to see the genuine love and respect we all had for him: his patience, his good humour, his knowledge and his willingness to share it and his cheerful help for others in any task great or small—all these great qualities are his legacy, as well as the memory of his magnificent moustache.
My thoughts are with Kenton and Mike at this difficult time.
Links
- Read about Heraclitus and Callimachus at Wikipedia.
- Watch Peter Brown perform the poem on YouTube.
Postscript (5 May 2024)
Mike is now one with the stars and the moon. Hail and farewell my friend, I am glad to have known you. Rest well and safe travels wherever you fare.