Macrobius

Book V. 13.8-13.11

10. At the same time he raises a chilling cry to the stars,
A bellowing just as when a wounded bull flees
The altar and shakes the errant axe from its neck. (A. 2.222-24)
Then he breathed out his spirit and roared, as when a bull
Roars as it is dragged around the lord of Helikon’s shrine
And the Earth-shaker delights in the youths who drag it (Il. 20.403-5)

As the fires swept the human spirit, the ash does not even sing.
In these days, did you ever notice humans singing? Out of joy or sadness?
Or composing in silence poems to the Gods, or uttering words, of anger
Or wrath, of pardon, nobility of filth, to
Emptiness if it must be, laying their woes and gladness upon them?
Even their incantations, invocations, prayers seem to be a thing of a shell
That they charm themselves more into blindness that they are captured by.
… (meer)

This is the second work of Macrobius Dedicated to his son, Eusthatius that I have read. It gives great astralistic-astronomical insights and virtue-driven pneumatological elucidations as well as virtue-derived commonwealth layouts on the example of Cicero's Scipio's Dream. Drawing on the Egypto-Hellenic, platonic and Neoplatonic schools I sieved it for necessary knowledge in my own development as well as engaged in minute research in the history of ideas. What I have affirmed is that metaphysical opinions voiced in ancient times hold true, ignoring errors in the early state of observational and speculative astronomy of these days and pursuing a reconciliation with the modern state of knowledge of physical astronomy. With these sets of knowledge in mind, I may rest and embark upon a new, literary journey that enhances my views and reaffirms the sojourns of my souls and spirit, as a mortal, a God, and a humble intellectual that refuses to lay his swords and wit to the grave prematurely.… (meer)

Book V. 13.8-13.11

10. At the same time he raises a chilling cry to the stars,
A bellowing just as when a wounded bull flees
The altar and shakes the errant axe from its neck. (A. 2.222-24)
Then he breathed out his spirit and roared, as when a bull
Roars as it is dragged around the lord of Helikon’s shrine
And the Earth-shaker delights in the youths who drag it (Il. 20.403-5)

As the fires swept the human spirit, the ash does not even sing.
In these days, did you ever notice humans singing? Out of joy or sadness?
Or composing in silence poems to the Gods, or uttering words, of anger
Or wrath, of pardon, nobility of filth, to
Emptiness if it must be, laying their woes and gladness upon them?
Even their incantations, invocations, prayers seem to be a thing of a shell
That they charm themselves more into blindness that they are captured by.
… (meer)