Sergei Lebedev THE YEAR OF THE COMET

and now faint with fear, the miserable Lares

scramble to the back of the shrine,

shoving each other and stumbling,

one little god falling over another,

because they know what kind of sound that is,

know by now the footsteps of the Furies.

C. P. Cavafy, “Footsteps”

Translated by Edmund Keeley / Philip Sherrard

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