C.H. Sisson (1914-2003), "Ovid in Pontus," Collected Poems
(Manchester: Carcanet, 1998), p. 158:
I am an old man whose death is foreseen,
Bystanders admire my longevity.
I see them eat every word I mean,
Yes, and excrete pity.
Di maris et coeli, what if the air
Is empty enough to receive prayer?
Do I have to pray? Because Pontic cold
Is under my cloak now I am old?
It is under my skin, fashionable tears.
A suitable place to die, or to make amends;
Failure makes enemies as success friends.
Hat tip: Eric Thomson.