Our people have grown weary of the nomadic life. The forest wilds of Italy are no place for a sophisticated people such as ours. Leave that to the scattered tribes, the barbarians, the jaguars and the lions—between whom I see little difference. The forest life is one of subsistence, of mere survival, the never-ending dance of starvation and violent death. This is no life for our people.
Our most fertile seasons have been those spent harvesting the bounties of Lake Bracciano—hunting elephant and cattle, bathing and drinking from the life-giving waters of the Tiber. Here, we find peace. Here, a life of abundance and progress awaits us, where the basic needs of our women and children may be met through the sweat and blood of our men, where our people can lay down roots, like the mighty cypress, extending our branches to the sky to reach out for what greatness awaits us there.
Here, our people shall pursue their destiny. I am Caesar. And this shall be our Rome.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment