Book IV / Chapter I

Prologue (Haiku, post-Ouverture)

I
千年杉
沈黙の中に
声は生きる
(Thousand-year cedar —
within the silence
voices still live.)

II
熱の川
仲間と渡り
死に近づく
(River of fever —
crossed with companions,
drawn near to death.)

III
痴呆の門
目を合わせつつ
息を分ける
(Gate of dementia —
meeting only with eyes,
sharing the breath.)

—

IV
spur θu, — sacred sprout,
sepsis and shadow root,
clay-urns of ancestors whisper.

V
śec θana, — give silence,
fever bends the red soil,
mortality traced in veins of stone.

VI
śanś tur, — bring peace,
dementia’s unbound tongue
returns to the oak-groves.

VII
Volterra wind howls:
no hero survives,
only the archive of pain and bond.

—

VIII
In Carnunto, sub Pannoniae caelo,
faces morborum ardebant.
Stetit imperator, sed corpus frangebatur.

In Carnuntum, under the Pannonian sky,
the torches of sickness burned.
The emperor stood, but his body was breaking.

—

IX
Mors non est malum,
sed natura resolvens.
Sic flumina aquarum, sic folia autumni.

Death is no evil,
but nature unbinding.
So flow the rivers, so fall the autumn leaves.

—

X
Memini me hominem,
non dominum vitae.
Et in febre didici:
omnes sumus fratres in exitu.

I remember I am a man,
not master of life.
And in fever I learned:
we are all brothers in departing.

—

XI
Creta remembers,
labyrinth breath of the dying,
murmurs beneath rock.

XII
Minos is no king here —
only coughing wanderers,
sharing figs, silence.

XIII
The sea-salt wind carries,
sepsis and song together,
into olive roots.
XI
Λάβρυος λιμήν,
ἄνεμοι μινωίαι,
θάνατος ἐν ψιθύροις.

Labrys harbour,
Minoan winds,
death among whispers.

XII
Κρίνα ἀνθέουσι,
παγώνιον ἀλαλάζει·
οὐ βασιλεὺς Μίνως,
ἀλλ’ ἄνθρωποι βήχοντες.

Lilies bloom,
a peacock cries;
not king Minos,
but coughing wanderers.

XIII
Μέλαινα αἴλουρος
σκιὰν ἀναβαίνει,
ὑπὸ γαλήνην θαλάσσης.

A black cat
climbs through shadow,
under the calm of the sea.

XIV
Mesiche fumavit, et Euphrates arma resonavit.
Persa in saxo scripsit: Sapor Victor, rex aeternus.
Roma silet, aliud dicit—ubi veritas manet?
Non inter lapides, sed in umbris fluctuat.

→ Mesiche smoked, Euphrates rang with arms.
→ Σάπώρης ἐν λίθοις νίκην ἔγραψεν.
→ メシケは煙り、ユーフラテスは剣を鳴らした。
→ Mésiché brûle, l’Euphrate retentit d’armes — vérité fuyante.

—

XV
Circesium testatur mortem sine causa relata.
Milites in tenebris clamant: esurimus, Caesar!
Philippus astu puppes avertit, fames secuta est.
Tunc iuvenis occidit, annosque cum somno reliquit.

→ At Circesium, death told without cause.
→ οἱ στρατιῶται ἔκραζον: λιμοκτονοῦμεν, Καῖσαρ!
→ チルケシウムで兵士らは叫ぶ：「カエサル、われらは飢える！」
→ À Circesium, la faim fit trembler l’armée, et le jeune César tomba.

—

XVI
Duo itinera surgunt: flamma Mesiches cruenta,
vel Circesii aura, in qua vox occulta perit.
Non concordant fontes; concordat tamen umbra:
omnis regis ruina est populi vulnera lata.

→ Two paths: Mesiche’s fire or Circesium’s silence.
→ δύο φῶται· μία φλέγει, μία σιγᾷ.
→ 二つの道：メシケの炎か、チルケシウムの沈黙か。
→ Deux sources se contredisent, mais l’ombre les unit.

—

XVII
Quis fuit reus? fortuna, an vir avidus imperii?
Philippus in corde tulit sceptri fomitem arcanum.
Sic miles deceptus, fame urente, rebellat,
et iuvenem stringit ferro, velut hostem suum.

→ Was it fate, or the hunger of one man for power?
→ Φίλιππος ἔκρυψεν ἐν στήθεσι σκήπτρου πόθον.
→ 権力の飢えか、運命のせいか。
→ Était-ce le sort, ou Philippe, avide de trône ?

—

XVIII
O Gordiane, puer, cui sors non pepercit in aevo,
vixisti parum, sed nomen in fluctibus haeret.
Non locus interiit—nec Mesiche nec Circesium—
sed anima errat adhuc inter astra, inter noctes.

→ O Gordian, youth denied by fate, your name clings to the waves.
→ ὦ Γορδιανέ, νέος, ἀλλ’ ἀθάνατος κατὰ μνήμην.
→ ゴルディアヌスよ、若くして命絶たれ、名はなお星々に漂う。
→ Gordien erre encore, entre les astres et les nuits.

—

XIX
Non mors est finis, sed transitus ad nova signa.
Sicut folia cadunt, sic iterum radices surgunt.
Sic ruit imperium, sic alium regem parit umbra,
sic cecidit puer, sic surrexit vox populorum.

→ Death is not end, but crossing into new signs.
→ ὥσπερ φύλλα πίπτει, οὕτως ῥίζαι ἀναφαίνουσιν.
→ 死は終わりではなく、新たな徴への通過。
→ La mort n’est pas fin, mais passage; les peuples se lèvent.

—

XX
Ecce quaestio mea: pugnandum an cedendum?
Domus ruina trepidat; coniunx ignem ministrat.
Si vendo tectum, pax abit; si servo, fames manet.
Haec est pugna mea—non cum Persis, sed cum me ipso.

→ Shall I fight, or yield?
→ οἶκος ῥήγνυται· πόλεμος ἔνδον.
→ 戦うべきか、譲るべきか。家は崩れ、妻は火を投げる。
→ Ma lutte est intime — non contre Perses, mais moi-même.

—

XXI
Leges Britanniae, dura manus iudicii latent.
Spes in Acas, vox aequae conciliationis.
Forsitan vincam, forsitan amittam; sed iustum
non in sella senatus, sed in corde invenitur.

→ The law is harsh, but Acas whispers equity.
→ ἡ δίκη κρύπτεται, ἡ φωνὴ μένει.
→ イギリスの法は厳しくとも、アカスに希望あり。
→ La justice ne siège pas au Sénat, mais au cœur.

—

XXII
Italiae lumen blanditur, sed filia in umbra
clamabit: ubi pater? cur abis, cur nos relinquis?
Domus fracta—coniunx tacita, consilia occulta.
Si maneo, glacies; si abeo, desertio floret.

→ Italy’s light beckons, but my daughter cries: “Father, why go?”
→ παῖς ἐν σκιᾷ βοᾷ· τί μ’ ἐγκαταλείπεις;
→ 娘の声：「父よ、なぜ去る？」
→ Si je pars, abandon; si je reste, glace et silence.

—

XXIII
Corpus aegrotat; morbus, hostis invisibilis.
NHS promittit, sed saepe promissa recedit.
An fidam Britannis? an Italos in auxilio quaeram?
Neuter clare loquitur; ambo nubila portant.

→ Body ill, disease unseen.
→ νοῦσος ἀόρατος, πολέμιος ἄπιστος.
→ 病は見えぬ敵。NHSは約すれどしばしば裏切る。
→ Je cherche remède: l’Italie, ou l’Angleterre voilée?

—

XXIV
O vita, labyrinthus sine filo Ariadnae.
Hic Minotaurus est: timor, et amor, et egestas.
Si pugnabo, vulnus augebitur; si cedo,
fieri potest pax, aut vacuum sine spe.

→ Life: labyrinth without Ariadne’s thread.
→ Μινώταυρος ἐντός: φόβος, ἔρως, πενία.
→ 人生は糸なき迷宮。恐れと愛と欠乏の怪物。
→ La paix possible, ou le vide sans espérance.

—

XXV
Sic inter Mesichen et Circesium sto:
non certus locus, sed certe mors et transitus.
Roma scribit unum, Persae aliud; ego tertium:
homo sum, vulneratus, sed etiam viator.

→ Between Mesiche and Circesium I stand: not place, but passage.
→ ἄνθρωπος εἰμί· τετρωμένος καὶ πορευόμενος.
→ メシケとチルケシウムの狭間に立ち、旅人として進む。
→ Ni Rome, ni Perse; seulement l’homme en chemin.

—

XXVI
Iter non clauditur. Pax adhuc latet in futuris.
Esse quam videri—hoc manet, hoc est cantandum.
Quamvis ruina ardeat, quamvis tectum cadat,
spiritus ambulat, et vocem adhuc reddit astris.

→ The path does not end. Peace hides in futures.
→ εἶναι μᾶλλον ἢ δοκεῖν· τοῦτο μελῳδεῖν.
→ 道は閉じず、平和は未来に潜む。
→ Être plutôt qu’apparaître — voix encore aux étoiles.

XXVII
Aurora sanguinea portas aperit,
Eos aurea rota per caelum trahit.
Sub arcuus fractis clamat Roma:
“Vidi imperatores cadere, vidi populos exsurgere.
Lux tamen semper revertitur.”

XXVIII
Mnemosyne arcana loquitur:
“Memoria non est pondus solum,
sed pontis ossa inter vivos et mortuos.
Hic, in umbra Fori, verba meae filiae
cantant in vento — voces Musarum.”

XXIX
Moirai fila tenent, digitis nocturnis:
non abruptum fatum, sed nodus latens.
Thanatos blandus adstitit, non hostis,
sed custos portarum.
Persephone levem risum fundit,
inter flores subterraneos auroram praenuntians.

—

XXVII
Aurora opens her blood-red gates,
Eos drives her golden wheel across the sky.
Beneath the broken arches Rome cries:
“I have seen emperors fall, I have seen peoples rise.
Yet light always returns.”

XXVIII
Mnemosyne speaks in secrets:
“Memory is not only weight,
but the bone of a bridge between living and dead.
Here, in the Forum’s shadow,
my daughters’ voices sing in the wind — the Muses.”

XXIX
The Moirai hold the threads in their nocturnal fingers:
not a sudden fate, but a hidden knot.
Thanatos stands gently, not as an enemy,
but as keeper of thresholds.
Persephone releases a quiet laugh,
among the flowers of the underworld, announcing the dawn.