When they saw Patroclus lying dead who was once so brave, so strong and young, the horses of Achilles began to weep; their immortal nature stood aghast at that masterwork of death. They reared their heads and shook their manes, they stamped the ground with their hooves and mourned for Patroclus, lifeless, destroyed, mere flesh and bone, defenceless now, his spirit gone, a castaway from life, now naught. Zeus saw the tears of the immortal steeds and grieved, saying, ‘It was my mistake, it was my thoughtlessness at Peleus’ wedding. We should never have given you as a gift, poor horses! What business did you have among wretched humankind, plaything of destiny, you whom neither death nor the sorrows of old age torment. Men have tangled you in their own miseries.’ Yet the two noble horses continued to pour out their tears for the eternal misfortune of death.
Constantine P. Cavafy, The Horses of Achilles (Translated by Avi Sharon)
