I must seek Alcaeus...he must help me...
I see Phaon in his bed, his young arms, his young legs, his close-cropped hair, blue eyes, smooth face.
Like a storm punishing the olives, love shakes me.
I must go to sleep.
Forget!
P
Another letter has reached me from Aesop. Still in Adelphi, he writes he has been sick with fever.
“My consolation is that I am sick for good reasons. I am sick of men being mistreated. I am sick of injustice.
“As you know, I have been more than a fly on a chariot wheel. I have spoken out publicly and this has raised dust and stones. People stare at me on the streets.
“I am sick of the aristocrats. I am sick of prejudice and ignorance. There must be a better life.