After C. P. Cavafy, Waiting for the Barbarians
and Iliad XXI, 200-380
What is happening, and why is no one assembled in the marae?
The barbarians arrived today.
But why is the sky so thick and black beneath the shining sun?
and why is the air so full and crass with screeching thunder?
Because the barbarians came today.
The Waikato burns, and the birds and the insects
are crowded in panicked flight from the flames.
But why does the river bubble and hiss so loud?
and why are its banks crowded with such rows of rubber and scales?
Because the barbarians came today.
The Waikato boils, and the eels and the fish
are desperate to escape its scalding waters.
But why do the trees shake and rattle so hard?
and why does the earth rumble and groan so deep
as if the world itself teeters on the brink of utter despair?
Because the barbarians came today.
The Waikato burns, and behind them they drag great
thundering machines of war, wrought iron and bronze
and they crush and tear apart the ground beneath them.
Yes,
but what is this sickness that has descended upon us,
which feels as if the very order of things rots and crumbles?
Surely that cannot be by the hands of the barbarians?
The barbarians came today and now
the Waikato burns beneath the destructive wrath
of the Great Warlord, and he is sick with greed and conquest.
Then why does no one do anything—the men and the women?
Why instead do they shout and weep and flee in droves
to distant corners of the country?
They tried to stay, but the barbarians came today
and burned and boiled the Waikato from out beneath their feet
until they could stay no longer.
Ah, so how are we to live with those people then,
if this is their solution?