The Latin word volare is a verb
that means to fly. When an acute
accent is added to the final "e"—
volaré—it becomes the Spanish
phrase for I will fly.
—courtesy of a Google search.
They say that Latin’s
a dead language.
No one ever speaks it
anymore—except
to try and impress.
I know a friend who
sprinkles Latin
in his poems:
il sole for the sun,
le stelle for the stars,
and no one gives a shit.
I could surely
render it eloquent,
in the tongue
of Imperial Rome,
but I’d rather not
squander this moment
on the topic of
human dung.
I will tell you
instead
you are loved,
with the flair of te amo,
so close to the
Italian
I will text in ’25,
in the snap
of chat’s connection,
the dissolving
face-to-face;
more perilous
than a man
who crept in
daunted, onto the floor
of the Coliseum,
the roar of crowds
and lions
which had drowned
his palpitations,
an unsheathed sword
in his hand, palms
glazed with sweat,
fretful to face the
fury that awaited.
Andreas Gripp
November 21, 2024
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