A Draft

[frarjohn]

Here, have the draft of a poem I've been working on. It's based off of my translations of two Horatian Odes. Let me know what you think?
An Amendment of Horace, Odes IV.7 & I.4

The snows have scattered, now grass returns to the fields,
    and leaves to the trees;
The turn of the Earth has changed, and lessening rivers
    pass calmly by their banks.

The Minnesotans shed their armor, and dare to dance
    and show a little skin.
"Hope not in the Temporal," warns the year & the hour
    which snatch away the kindly day.

Winter mellows with the thaw, summer overtakes spring,
    and likewise perishes
when fruitful autumn reveals the harvest, and soon
    lifeless winter returns.

Swift cycles undo the disappearance of the moon:
    yet when we have fallen,
to the pious heroes and rich kings of our fathers,
    we are dust & shadow.

Who knows whether the hours of tomorrow will be added
    to the total of today?
The brief span of life forbids us to set hope
    on distant days.

My friend, when once you're dead, and the glorious
    judgment given,
neither family, nor riches, nor eloquence
    can restore you.

You hear the knocking on your door?
    It is the Stranger-
that pounding, pulsing, pealing in your ear-
    how many locks will keep him?