By a secret oath …to keep forever the power

they had acquired.

Livy

 

For Timothy Snyder

Later, my historian, dutifully inscribe in the stony annals: those years, men gathered in shadowy councils amongst themselves.

It will be refuted they had a mandate: but from the lamenting mouths of the ancient urns will come the assent—they did. 

It will be remembered how they first emptied the granite squares—then swung wide the city gates for those rough bands who always wait at logic's outskirts.

How they made a fool of the laws: how in the senate, with garlands on their heads, they gave false witness—but the others, as if entranced, forbore rising up against them.

Remember also to inscribe how in summer—the fierce heat was upon them.

How under the vast, oracular sky, they watched as innocents were taken from oaken carts, the young forever separated from their elders.

How a silent purge began. How doubt decimated the already dry fields.

It will be said, later, that some desired to speak out: but fearful, they will claim their mouths were already sealed with the frozen wax of alarm.

Yet others will whisper: remember, for a time, this was not the case.

It was only at the end that the marble statues were silenced with blood.

Above all, my historian, this time—do not say there were no witnesses. There were many witnesses.