Letter 124: To the Philosopher [Hypatia].

To the Philosopher [Hypatia]. "Even if there is utter forgetfulness of the dead in Hades, even there shall I remember you" [Homer, Iliad 22.389], my dear Hypatia. I am surrounded by the sufferings of my city, and I am sickened by it. Every day I see enemy forces, and men slaughtered like sacrificial animals. I breathe air tainted by the decay of dead bodies. I am waiting to suffer the same fate as so many others — for how can anyone keep hope when the sky is darkened by the shadows of carrion birds? Yet even so, I love this country. Why then do I suffer? Because I am a Libyan, because I was born here, and because here I see the honored tombs of my ancestors. For your sake alone I think I could leave my city and change my home — if I ever had the chance.

Letter 124: A City in Wartime [1] To the Philosopher note [Hypatia.] Even though there shall be utter forgetfulness of the dead in Hades, even there shall I remember thee, note [Homer, Iliad 22.389.] my dear Hypatia. I am encompassed by the sufferings of my city, and disgusted with her, for I daily see the enemy forces, and men slaughtered like victims on an altar. I am breathing an air tainted by the decay of dead bodies. I am waiting to undergo myself the same lot that has befallen so many others, for how can one keep any hope, when the sky is obscured by the shadow of birds of prey? [2] Yet even under these conditions I love the country. Why then do I suffer? Because I am a Libyan, because I was born here, and it is here that I see the honored tombs of my ancestors. On your account alone I think I should be capable of overlooking my city, and changing my abode, if ever I had the chance of doing so.