POEM OF THE DAY

WE have had our fill of snow and its impact of late, but imagine not quaffing wine but breaking some off for consumption! The Roman poet Ovid observes this winter custom by the Black Sea in this poem from the period of his banishment from Rome to what is now Constanta, Romania. (From the anthology Winter, a British Museum publication).

WINTER AT TOMIS

The snow lies deep: nor sun nor melting shower

Serves to abate the winter’s icy power. One fall has scarcely come another’s there.

And stays in drifts unmelted all the year. Fierce and tempestuous is the North-wind’s sway;

It levels towers of stone and carries roofs away.

With skins and trousers men keep out the cold;

Naught but their faces can your eyes behold.

Into one mass their hair is frozen tight, Their beards with hoary rime hang glistening white.

Nor need they jars their liquor to confine,

They do not quaff a cup, they break a bit of wine.

Water is brittle here; you use a spade; And running streams by frost are solid made.

Even the Danube flows with waves concealed

The dark blue surface into ice congealed.

On foot we go across the unmoving tide

And horses’ hoofs ring loud where once their oarsmen plied.