Rome Poems - Poems about Rome

"And you, Brutus?" And then was Caesar dead. A moment's act and history's chapter done; A moment's thrust and Caesar's life was bled, And you the one that Caesar thought his son. But were you son of Rome, and that came first? Did Caesar die a hero, or a knave? Can justice spring from such a violent burst? Can sudden murder be...

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Well, Brutus was that sort of chap As whacked his old man in the Cap. The senators there, They’d stab or they’d stare, With all other business a wrap. ...

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English translations of Latin poems written by the ancient Roman poetess Sulpicia. I. At Last, Love! by Sulpicia translation by Michael R. Burch It's come at last! Love! The kind of love that, had it remained veiled, would have shamed me more than baring my naked soul. I appealed to Aphrodite in my poems and she delivered my beloved to me, placed him snugly,...

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I am Rome conquered, by my vices. Veiled with adorned armours of Caesar. But at nights is haunted with Caesar’s spirit, Which yells ‘There is no such place wherein your solace resides, no one who looks at you with pride.’ I am Brutus advised, by my kins to stab Caesar, But still in my sorrow I tend to drown deeper, With...

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"Their cross will decay Rome will be as a phoenix Helios will reign supreme" "The sun always sets Accept the eagle’s old age Find dominion in your mind" ...

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I only remembered it for a minute second Some dream bound for the black hole. A minuscule moment it was Slipping into the fabric of no dimension. The actor forgetting their single stage moment In the shortest act created for the oblivion. Recording under my attentive fatigue: Running! In a state of dead weight Away from the fictitious villains of terror Scurrying up...

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CATULLUS TRANSLATIONS 3 Catullus VII: 'How Many Kisses' loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch You ask, Lesbia, how many kisses are enough, or more than enough, to satisfy me? As many as the Libyan sands swirling in incense-bearing Cyrene between the torrid oracle of Jove and the sacred tomb of Battiades. Or as many as the stars observing amorous men making love furtively on a...

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CATULLUS TRANSLATIONS Catullus LXXXV: 'Odi et Amo' loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch 1. I hate. I love. You ask, 'Why not refrain?' I wish I could explain. I can't, but feel the pain. 2. I hate. I love. Why? Heavens above! I wish I could explain. I can't, but feel the pain. 3. I hate. I love. How can that be, turtledove? I wish I could explain. I can't, but feel...

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Embracing the countryside Made some ecstatic and glee But one feature in particular Was that old coniferous tree ‘Conifer,’ a Latin word Means one that bears a cone But did Nero study the outdoors When he was in charge of Rome? One Emperor’s word against another The other, Mother Nature A lovely scene along the hills Was better than portraiture The gentle...

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It was a crisp day October 27th 1942 that's when my pop set out for WW11 right after my grandmother Nona gave birth to my dad orders arrived his job assignment was to protect the priest arch bishops and future Pope's being captured and killed for their religious belief safety guarded in Saint Sebastian church in Rome...

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A solar halo Sol Invictus blistering Or the cross blazing Burning for roman bloodshed Who in truth was Cain scheming ...

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divas in doorways a butterfly floats by a ripple of water...

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Archon of the west, whose spouse was the worldly Sophia Who blindly abandoned his childhood lamb, to search for unseen light Though the lamb could have showed him the pure gnosis he craved for Poem (from a Gnostic Christian perspective) about the Roman Emperor Julian the Apostate, who abandoned Christianity in favour for philosophical Paganism....

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Across the city the emperor called For recruits to join the legions Travel to new and strange lands And conquer for covetous reasons As sun beat down they trained their men To fight for colonisation, Taking with them skills and knowledge Introducing urbanisation. Past mountains, lakes and plains they marched Battalions stood United Crossing countries, rivers, sea, Arriving uninvited. Invasion, yet...

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There is a fire burning inside of me fueled not by passion but by the destruction of the housing place of logic for it seems passion has thrown those timbers into the flames. Thus indeed Rome is burning and while all is not yet lost the urgency of the moment insist reason should govern...

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