Thursday Sonnet: Canticle of Cartago

By john_silver

Thu, 09 Oct 2008
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1 comments
 

No sweeter song the world undated knew
Than that which sung the vagrants of Cartago;
In them the horns of fallen temples blew,
In them were honoured Hannibal and Dido.
Those horns are now, in steel and song, but rust.
Yet there is Carthaginian blood in me:
My destiny is written in the dust,
My song sings those who lose eternally.
And you who have a name which stands for victory,
How lightly you have razed my walls, and beat
My pale resistance: now the stream of history
That gently runs beneath your hallowed feet
Renews itself in us, and nothing more
Of time remains but song and spoils of war.

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Comments

Submitted by tcook on
I like the idea of this but the historian in me revolts - the Carthaginians were incredibly successful at war - that's how they built their empire - and their eventual defeat at the hands of Rome was a close run thing. I think too that the constraints of the form override the sense of the poem at times - whereas the form should enhance the sense. Does that make sense?