THE SONG OF MAYRIA SONIA SONOS

Introduction

This poem is inspired by a Lycian-style sarcophagus grave with a Greek inscription on the side found in the ancient city of Patara on the Lycian coast of modern south western Turkey.

Once one of the largest cities in the Roman Empire, and reputed to have been the birthplace of Apollo, the Greek God of Poetry and Song, Patara was a major trading port for the whole of the region. It was also a major religious centre - an oracle of Apollo rivalling those of Delos and Delphi in popularity was here, as was a major temple complex of Athene, Goddess of Wisdom and War. At its height, it was the capital of several provinces in the Roman Empire and ranked as an important and cosmopolitan city.

Today, however, much of the five square kilometre site rests under marshes, sand and grass. The river and sea inlet which formed the city's harbour dried up long ago and the entire area is a treasure trove of undiscovered archaeological ruins.

Outside the old city walls (the entrance arch of which still stands), there was a necropolis with sarcophagus graves in the Lycian style - that is, with a stone lid and a house-like structure in which the bones were laid. This was the Lycian custom; Romans often cremated their dead.

Near the road, in the heat of a Turkish midday, I sat down next to one of them. It had a Greek inscription on the side - after about 200BC all Lycians spoke Greek and not their original language. The inscription appeared to give the name of the person memorialised here: Mayria Sönia Sonos. A woman's name, and given that she was buried in this rather grand ossuary, she seemed like something of a high-born lady. Even the fact that the grave recorded her surname suggested that she was someone to be remembered: generally in history, women are often remembered as someone's mother, wife or daughter, but Mayria Sönia Sonos... she deserved to be remembered in her own right.

I got to thinking about Mayria, what her life was like, how she lived, how she thought and viewed the world and I wondered what she might have to say if she were to speak again after 1800 years of silence. I got into a poetic process which Robert Graves calls analepsis: throwing one's mind back into the past to reconstruct what is unknown using the known and a measure of imagination.

Effectively it was bringing Mayria back to life and letting my mind wander through the details of her life. Letting her talk until she was all done, until she had said what she had come to say.

I sat and listened. This is what she said:

The Song of Mayria Sönia Sonos

I was a woman of consequence,
A lady of quality in this city.

I flirted, I danced,
I dined, I painted,
I wove a web of life:
In this very place,
I lived and I died.

I was a woman of life,
Who delighted in excellent things.

And being this lady,
I could be found in the finest of places,
For I would not be seen in the darker streets.
The good life of the Lycian Greek I lived,
The good life of Patara.

There was the amphitheatre
For the entertainments.

And I, a woman of culture,
Sat under the awnings
And, shaded from the Sun,
I watched the actors
Play their songs.

There were the temples
For the offerings.

And I, a woman of knowledge
Went to the birthplace of Apollo –
A source of pride for all Patarans –
And kept good faith with him
Who gave me that wisdom.

(And if the oracle spoke,
I'd surely listen.)

I was the centre of my world,
My life was my passion.

I gossiped, I laughed,
I judged and was judged too,
I delighted in the everyday things,
My companions and I,
We delighted in our everyday lives.

I was a wife, alas, it was hardly
A match of love but quid est amor?

(How very Roman of me!)

My husband provided for me,
But was inattentive and I kept
To my quarters and he to his.
But I had children, two girls,
To survive me.

To make me immortal.

Ai, it was not to be: I passed away,
Like any other, and the city too.

The river silted up and dried,
Time tore up the arches,
The theatres and streets
That were the places I knew,
They all passed away.

I thought she would live forever, Patara,
I thought I would live forever, Mayria.

But we all passed away
Into the sands of the river and time.