I, Iasis
I, Iasis, lie here—the young man
famous for his good looks in this great city.
Men of learning admired me, so did simple, superficial people.
I took equal pleasure in both.
But from being considered so often a Narcissus and Hermes,
excess wore me out, killed me. Traveler,
if you’re an Alexandrian, you won’t blame me.
You know the pace of our life—its fever, its unsurpassable sensuality.
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