The Persian Version
Truth-loving Persians do not dwell upon
The trivial skirmish fought near Marathon.
As for the Greek theatrical tradition
Which represents that summer's expedition
Not as a mere reconnaisance in force
By three brigades of foot and one of horse
(Their left flank covered by some obsolete
Light craft detached from the main Persian fleet)
But as a grandiose, ill-starred attempt
To conquer Greece - they treat it with contempt;
And only incidentally refute
Major Greek claims, by stressing what repute
The Persian monarch and the Persian nation
Won by this salutary demonstration:
Despite a strong defence and adverse weather
All arms combined magnificently together.
poem by Robert Graves
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Arabic is a language, Persian is a delicacy and Turkish is an art.
The Battle Of Lepanto Ottomans Defeats
Holy League on 7 October 1571 attacks;
wins a crushing victory over Ottoman fleet
at the Battle of Lepanto Ottomans defeats;
off tide turning western Greek coast;
decisively defeated Ottoman mighty main fleet
of Ottoman Empire in fierce five hours;
of fighting on northern edge of Gulf of Patras;
off fate western Greece Ottoman invasion forces
were from naval station Lepanto sailing westwards;
engaged from Messina Holy League fleet;
quick sand history on this victory turns
Mediterranean Sea Holy League prevents;
becoming an open uncontested sea route;
for Muslim forces; from major Ottoman invasion
Italy protects; prevents conquest Ottomans;
advancing further into exposed southern;
flank of Europe victory Lepanto was the last
major naval battle in contest Mediterranean;
fought entirely between diced empire galleys;
great symbolic importance appropriately assigned
to an empires altering decisive naval defeat;
upon signing of peace treaty in 1573 fate turns;
victorious Holy League is incredibly disbanded
axed a short time after unity Pope Pius V died.
Extract from the poem ‘Mediterranean Colonisation Wars Left Legacy Seeds'.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Muier
Oh, black Persian cat!
Was not your life
already cursed with offspring?
We took you for rest to that old
Yankee farm, — so lonely
and with so many field mice
in the long grass —
and you return to us
in this condition —!
Oh, black Persian cat.
poem by William Carlos Williams
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Time Rules Carved Out Empire Journeys
Darius I of Persia earlier standout stars;
having attacked conquered Ancient Egypt
built a canal linking his Persian Red Sea?
To the Mediterranean through desert sands;
Darius's canal wide enough for two triremes
to pass each other with all oars extended?
Required mere four days to canal traverse;
history turns Persian Roman Empires are extinct?
No Eastern Roman Empire now time rules?
poem by Terence George Craddock
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he has lost the horse, but is looking for the horseshoe.
We might've fallen from the horse, but not from the honor.
Bravery without foresight is like a blind horse.
Stand so much until grass grows under your foot.
The horse is Turkmen, it eats from both the nose-bag and the manger.
Treat your superior as a father, your equal as a brother, and your inferior as a son.
He pushes it away with the hand, but pulls it forward with the foot.
Alexander The Great War Poem
ALEXANDER THE GREAT
King Philip his father engaged a new teacher
When Alexander turned thirteen.
Aristotle the greatest mind of his time
Gave Alexander his taste for the unforeseen.
Alexander dreamed of a one world empire
Held together by one king and tradition.
After his father was murdered by rivals
He ruled in his place with conviction.
Philip's death caused conquered kingdoms to rebel
And for next two years Alexander forced them to concede.
The huge Persian Empire of King Darius III
Posed the greatest threat to Greeks and their creed.
The Persian cavalry numbered over forty thousand
Plus one million foot soldiers with weapons and shield.
Alexander's troops numbered thirty thousand on the ground
Along side five thousand horsemen who dominated the field.
Alexander practiced many new methods of war
One of his most effective was called the siege train.
Several high towers would be rolled up to city walls on wheels
From which defenders were overwhelmed and slain.
He developed mechanical machines of death
Catapults, which hurled fifty pound stones.
Large arrows and burning balls of fire
Smashing walls, buildings and bones.
Soon Alexander fulfilled his prophecy
Sitting on the golden throne of Persian kings.
Possessing great treasures from conquered lands
Though his greatest need was conquest not things.
Alexander, king of Asia, would not be satisfied
His ambition and ego denied him rest.
He decided to march his armies to India
Putting the Rajahs armies and elephants to test.
The huge beasts, which were unknown in Europe
Frightened Alexander's men at the start.
In spite of their fear disciplined prevailed
As Greek spears tore holes in their heart.
Exhausted by years of hardship and battle.
His men refused to go on and Alexander gave in.
Disease, thirst, and hunger were their constant companions
From the time they left Greece till they were home again.
Alexander was physically and emotionally sick
To the point of becoming critically ill.
He died in Babylon at thirty-two
King of prophecies he pledged to fulfill.
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From truth to falsehood there's a four-finger distance.
An Eastern Tale
Adressed To Mrs. S.C. Choate
A Persian lady we're informed-
This happened long, long years before
The Christian era ever dawned,
A thousand years, it may be more,
The date and narrative are so obscure,
I have to guess some things that should be sure.
I'm puzzled with this history,
And rue that I began the tale;
It seems a kind of mystery-
I'm very much afraid I'll fail,
For want of facts of the sensation kind:
I therefore dwell upon the few I find.
I like voluminous writing best,
That gives the facts dress'd up in style.
A handsome woman when she's dressed
Looks better than (repress that smile)
When she in plainer costume does appear;
The more it costs we know she is more
dear
.
The story is a Grecian one,
The author's name I cannot tell;
Perhaps it was old Xenophon
Or Aristotle, I can't dwell
On trifles; perhaps Plutarch wrote the story:
At any rate its years have made it hoary.
The Greeks were famous in those days
In arts, in letters and in arms;
Quite plain and simple in their ways;
With their own hands they tilled their farms;
Some dressed the vine, some plow'd the ocean's wave;
Some wrote, were orators, or teachers grave.
They were Republicans, in fact;
The Persians might have called them 'black
Republicans;' they never lacked
The power to beat a foeman back.
Thermopylae, so famed in Grecian story
Is but another name for martial glory.
A busy hive to work or fight,
Like our New England bold and strong;
A little frantic for the right,
As sternly set against the wrong;
And when for right they drew the sword, we know,
Stopped not to count the number of the foe.
To me it is a painful sight
To see a nation great and good
Reduced to such a sorry plight,
And courtiers crawl where freemen stood,
And king and priests combine to seize the spoil,
While widows weep and beggar'd yeomen toil.
The philosophic mind might dwell
Upon this subject for an age:
The philanthropic heart might swell
Till tears as ink would wet the page;
The mystery, a myst'ry will remain-
The learning of the learned cannot explain.
The Persians were a gaudy race,
Much giv'n to dress and grand display;
I'm grieved to note this is the case
With other people at this day;
And folks are judged of from outside attractions,
Instead of from good sense and genteel actions.
The dame in question was a type
Of all her class; handsome and rich
And proud, of course, and flashing like
A starry constellation, which
She was, in fact a moving mass of light
From jewels which outshone the stars at night.
The tale is somewhat out of joint-
I'm not much given to complain;
'Tis in a most essential point
A blank; I've read it oft in vain
To find one syllable about her size,
The color of her hair, or of her eyes.
Or whether she was short or tall,
Or if she sung or play'd with grace,
If she wore hoops or waterfall
I cannot find a single trace
Of proof; and as I like to be precise,
My disappointment equals my surprise.
This Persian belle; (confound the belle)
Excuse me, please; I won't be rude;
She's in my way, so I can't tell
My tale, so much does she intrude;
I wish I knew her age, and whether she
Was single, married, or engaged to be.
These are important facts to know,
I wonder how they slipped the pen
Of him who wrote the story, so
I wonder at the taste of men
Who wrote for future ages thus to spoil
A tale to save time, paper, ink or oil.
Our Persian lady, as I said,
Decked out in costly jewels rare,
A visit to a Grecian made-
A lady of great worth, and fair
To look upon, of great domestic merit
Which from a noble race she did inherit.
Puffed up with vanity and pride,
The Persian flashing like a gem,
Displayed her brilliants, glittering wide;
The Grecian coldly looked at them:
'Have you no jewelry at all, to wear?
Your dress and person look so poor and bare.'
She called her children to her side,
Seven stalwart sons of martial mien;
'These are my jewels,' she replied,
'I'm richer far than you, I ween:
These are the glory and the strength of Greece,
Which all the gems on earth would not increase,'
Let others shine in diamonds bright,
Or hoard their greenbacks, bonds or gold,
You have your jewels in your sight,
And hearing, like the matron old;
And should they still continue to increase,
You'll beat the model mother of old Greece.
Then hail Columbia, happy land!
While California yields her ore,
May you increase your jewel band,
By adding every year one more;
And when you're asked your jewels to display.
Point to your score of sons saying 'these are they.'
poem by David John Scott
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How I Feel
I love you more than words can say
Our souls have found each other
In distant lands
We love unconditionally
Our love has reached the point of no return
With you I am complete
My love for you unbearable
Nothing can come between
In this world
I am nothing without your love
We belong together
My heart
In your hands
My life is yours
In your loving arms I belong
Soon you will come for me
In early morning, prayer
I saw you standing there
Light surrounding you
Occupied in thoughts of me
Our love pure and unique
May we be granted?
A life together
In each other's arms
To love, forever
poem by Persian Khushi
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If you tell the truth too early, you are laughed at -- too late and you are stoned.
Persian Sword
With sword I've slain
In the realm of dreams
You have tried to inject your venom
Through snakes guns and knives
Each time I've slain you
Still you creep from the darkness of your soul
And come back for more
I've tried to win you over
In so many ways
Still you're green with jealousy
Pretending to be a friend
In the realm of dreams
Your wicked smile resembles
That of the snake slithering
Through the window
I've slain you then
I can it again
You must have realized by now
Your poisonous bite
Guns and knives
And with your coiled squeeze
That I do not fear you
I am much stronger than I've ever been
Whatever light I saw inside you
Was overpowered by the darkness
Of your soul
So with my Persian sword
I will behead you
Until you return no more
RM
03: 05: 12
poem by Persian Khushi
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