If You Had Not Perished

Si non prius ipse perissem,
These lines might have gained a secure name,
But probably not, sad little coals

Thrust into kindling that only smokes,
Thrust into the hands that aren’t startled,
That handle them and then set them down

So that they flicker out, cold again.
Who would recommend lukewarm embers?
How would what never bursts into flame

For anyone ever gain a name,
Ever secure even minor fame?
No, if you had not perished, you would

Have made many more attempts, fanning
Each hopelessly flickering blue flame,
Ending in puffs of smoke, just the same.