A Life
The streets, albeit not with gold, were paved,
The path both broad and even; wide the way
And easy, with no uniform to don.
By almost nothing was he put upon.
Old age had been foreseen, and so he saved,
The modicum matched with its rainy day.
The sheets were clean, as were the neat clothes worn
From bawling babe, to teen, to man, and on.
Few were the oaths required to be sworn,
And almost nothing had been sacrificed,
Or found worthwhile, or worth the dying for.
As to the depredations brought by war,
None had been undergone. All things sufficed,
Since almost nothing crucial had been needed.
Yes, easy, broad, and even, he conceded,
Though through it all, what all of it had meant
He couldn't say. No, not in any event.
Len Krisak’s translation of the Aeneid appeared in 2016. His translation of the Inferno will be out from Routledge in September, as will his own poems, Magpie. The past winner of the Richard Wilbur and Robert Frost prizes, he is a four-time champion on Jeopardy!