ON A HARD WINTER THE RHINE WILL FREEZE

Our age here in the First World,

the Roman Empire somewhere near

the time of Julian the Apostate,

last attempt to restore the old gods

of patriarchy and capitalism

not yet pierced by a Persian spear,

can't stand silence. There is

something threatening to it,

so we have our slaves read

to us, play to us constantly

from our screens something,

anything, banal things,

so that we wouldn't

face the silence, our own thoughts

that surface when the external

world doesn't entice mundane reactions,

the doubts they carry, the knowledge

that the emperor's Persian expedition

will fail, like all the previous ones,

that the old gods are dead

and can't be revived,

that the Huns are moving to the west,

in the lush lands of the Dnieper

defeated Ermanarik will fall to his sword,

and soon the Goths will be on the border,

and Valens will ride

to the field of Adrianople,

and on a hard winter the Rhine will freeze

for the barbarians to cross over.

30.04.2025

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