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This translation is dedicated to my son,

Geoffrey (1974 - 1997)

and to my grandson, Fabian (b.1992)

 

 

 

Generations of men are like the leaves.

In winter, winds blow them down to earth,

but then, when spring season comes again,

budding wood grows more. And so with men –

one generation grows, another dies away.

 

                                                (Iliad 6.181-5)