Nero's Term

C Constantine Cavafy Constantine Cavafy
0 金叶
#listen-container { display: inline-block; padding: 9px 15px; background: #10578E; cursor: pointer; transition: all 0.3s ease; border: 1px solid #1791ef; border-bottom: 1px solid #156caf; -webkit-box-shadow: 0 1px 0 #156caf; -moz-box-shadow: 0 1px 0 #156caf; box-shadow: 0 1px 0 #156caf; } #listen-container:hover { background: #2f9cf1; } #listen-container a { color: #fff; } .listen-container-svg { fill: #fff; height: 20px; width: 22px; margin-right: 5px; } #text-player { margin-right: 0; display: inline-block; font-size: 16px; top: -3px; position: relative; float: none; font-family: "Roboto","sans-serif"; font-size: 12px; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: 0.1em; } Listen to this Poem Your browser does not support the audio element. Nero was not worried when he heard the prophecy of the Delphic Oracle. "Let him fear the seventy three years." He still had ample time to enjoy himself. He is thirty. More than sufficient is the term the god allots him to prepare for future perils. Now he will return to Rome slightly tired, but delightfully tired from this journey, full of days of enjoyment -- at the theaters, the gardens, the gymnasia... evenings at cities of Achaia... Ah the delight of nude bodies, above all... Thus fared Nero. And in Spain Galba secretly assembles and drills his army, the old man of seventy three.

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