A temple was founded today,
which the masses will think is an occasion
to celebrate a god with a randy prick
and an appetite for “playful rape”–
if the tales told of him be true–
but there is far more to him than that.
Parentalia begins today,
and the dead are roving about unseen,
though we all feel them,
see their presence ripple across the top
of a glass of water,
and so we give them feasts and share them
and hope that they favor us with blessings.
But look at the happy coincidence:
for Faunus is the “speaking god,”
and what oracles are better or more true
for the ordinary person but those
from their own ancestors,
who throng the streets
as if this were a market day, though they are all closed?
You need not invite them in;
they are here already.
Give them food, for to do otherwise
would be a breach of hospitality’s duties.
And if you have fed them,
then listen to when they speak:
it would be rude not to.