diores of Amarinceus
Struck by a flying flint
Died in a puddle of his own guts
Slammed down into mud he lies
With his arms stretched out to his friends
And pirous the Thracian
You can tell him by his knotted hair
Lies alongside him
He killed him and was killed
There seem to be black flints
Everywhere a man steps

Like through the jointed grass
The long-stemmed deer
Almost vanishes
But a hound has already found her flattened tracks
And he’s running through the fields toward her

Like through the jointed grass
The long-stemmed deer
Almost vanishes
But a hound has already found her flattened tracks
And he’s running through the fields toward her