Footsteps
On an ebony bed decorated
with coral eagles, sound asleep, lies
Nero—unconscious, calm, and happy;
powerful in the vigor of his flesh,
and in the splendid strength of youth.
But in the alabaster hall enclosing
the ancient shrine of the Aenovarvi
his Lares are very restless.
The little household gods tremble
and try to hide their insignificant bodies.
Because they heard a horrible roar,
a deathly roar ascending the staircase,
iron footsteps shaking the stairs.
And now the miserable Lares faint and
and hide themselves in the depths of the shrine,
pushing and stumbling over each other,
one little god falls onto the other
because they know what kind of roar that is,
they have felt the footsteps of the Furies.
Libros Libertad 