Father and Son
Above the Maze
“Son, though the sea holds us, the air is wide open.
Soon or later, you and I will leave this prison.
When the fall comes and the west wind blow hard,
Magical wings shall take us off the yard.
Freedom and home are what we have wanted;
Stay no more in this island enchanted.
A flight and some risk we’ll have to take,
While the vehicle my art will surely make.”
“Father, the work you built being amazing,
No games, nor places, can be more intriguing.
The maze has attracted me from the start,
Though the ox’s cry could tear my dreams apart.
Flee and hunt is what I have learned to love;
I’d stay on earth and not fly like a dove.
A mother and some friends here could bring us comfort,
While our home after all these years must be desert.”
Behind the Wings
“Son, listen to me, the time has come for us to go.
We’d take a ride high and no one would know,
When most of the guards have gone to the bay
To see the boys and girls the devil would slay.
Years and years I have dreamt of this to come,
Though now it means two birds we would become.
Look at these wings—an art given by Apollo!
We’ll bid them farewell as the wind begin to blow.”
“Father, look at me, I am applying the wax
To the wing you secretly put under the flax.
And I keep hearing the monster cry for hunger.
Will they be kind to give him food and some water?
If only I’d stay here for one more day,
I may watch the ox and the Greek youths play.
I bet none of them can tell which route’s right.
Dad, do we really have to go tonight?”
In the Sky
“Beware, the wings on your back are fragile.
You must make great efforts and keep vigil.
Soon comes the daybreak and you’ll see the burning sun.
No man can get close to Him, keep in mind, my son.”
“Behold, all the trees and towns, routes and roofs down there
Have turned into black dots as seen here in the air.
How far and high up can a man soar?
At any cost, I shall explore.”
By the Tomb
“O Apollo, God of Light, give me your radiance.
What pride clouded my heart and my intelligence
And created the most daring device
Only to make Icarus sacrifice?
O God, how I celebrated the freedom born with me.
How could I banish it like a hateful enemy?
The freedom you gave me kept us from death;
The same freedom you gave him took his breath.
O Apollo, God of Truth, please tell me.
What art, most defiant, was there in me
To have designed the most dazzling structure
Only to feed the bloodthirsty creature?
O God, I admit I’ve broken the harmony
That you have arranged and kept in Man’s Colony.
Yet, it was I who made the maze and wove the wings—
Why took the innocent lives for all the mendings?”