Syrinx
Nina Kossman
Originally Published in Empirical magazine in May 2012
The nymph
flees from him who desires her,
the water knows what equals it:
fire - Pan - goat.
O Syrinx, o water-nymph,
your innocence,
your remote, reflective will
sways, green and supple,
on the bank of Pan’s forest-brook:
reed,
you’re now the soughing of
the wind, in distance
and ether;
the measured pace;
the sound,
(like echo,
without a body:
Pan’s greed for a mirror)
how you weep,
mother to Memory,
mere leaf, turmoil,
the muse’s nurse,
your madness turned to
prophetic gift,
piping.
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