A Greek poem


We were walking uphill the mule and I it was hot
and we stopped by a spring trickling down the mountain
there was open barrel for animals to drink.
The beast drank and drank; when I looked it was big as an elephant
and since the track we walked on was narrow it lost its balance
fell to the bottom of the hill.
When I came down it was ok if a bit hazed and we began to walk
uphill again.