Just imagine, they’ve found a leather-bound Roman book somewhere in the ruins,
Only it isn’t actually a book, it’s a sort of diary –
Sparse, lavishly spaced out entries, each one very short and going like this:
Yesterday penetrated Titus, Yesterday penetrated Marius, Yesterday penetrated Sextus,
Yesterday penetrated Flavius, Yesterday penetrated Pompilius, Yesterday penetrated Agrippa,
And so forth, and so on up to the very end. Naturally,
The scholars desperately want to know who the author of the document was,
To know at least a few facts from his life,
But the rascal left nothing behind except for the names of his partners.
Peerless inimitable Venus, even the dates are missing.
Whether he was an ignorant soldier, as some assume,
Or it was the first known case of literary minimalism in Western culture,
Nobody knows for sure.

dead trees