Short Talk on Ovid by Anne Carson
I see him there on a night like this but cool, the moon blowing through black streets. He sups and walks back to his room…He sits down at the table; people in exile write so many letters. Now Ovid is weeping. Each night about this time he puts on sadness like a garment and goes on writing. In his spare time he is teaching himself the local language (Getic) in order to compose in it an epic poem no one will ever read.
Anne Carson, excerpt from Short Talks