Epitaph on King Priam of Troy
Priam, the Trojan king
Lies in a great peace.
Lies he there
The city of Troy,
Where no more is joy.
Caused by Paris’s ploy,
Thought the city was a toy.
So brought the coil
And Troy, received it, as a spoil,
As the Greeks took the coil, away
And Troy, in ruins, alas.
poem by Deepta Protik Osman
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Helen of Troy - Clerihew
Helen of Troy
In Paris, found her blue-eyed boy.
Short lived was her joy,
Greeks destroyed Troy.
poem by Khadim Hussain
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Troy Town
HEAVENBORN Helen, Sparta's queen,
(O Troy Town!)
Had two breasts of heavenly sheen,
The sun and moon of the heart's desire:
All Love's lordship lay between.
(O Troy's down,
Tall Troy's on fire!)
Helen knelt at Venus' shrine,
(O Troy Town!)
Saying, “A little gift is mine,
A little gift for a heart's desire.
Hear me speak and make me a sign!
(O Troy's down,
Tall Troy's on fire!)
“Look, I bring thee a carven cup;
(O Troy Town!)
See it here as I hold it up,—
Shaped it is to the heart's desire,
Fit to fill when the gods would sup.
(O Troy's down,
Tall Troy's on fire!)
“It was moulded like my breast;
(O Troy Town!)
He that sees it may not rest,
Rest at all for his heart's desire.
O give ear to my heart's behest!
(O Troy's down,
Tall Troy's on fire!)
“See my breast, how like it is;
(O Troy Town!)
See it bare for the air to kiss!
Is the cup to thy heart's desire?
O for the breast, O make it his!
(O Troy's down,
Tall Troy's on fire!)
“Yea, for my bosom here I sue;
(O Troy Town!)
Thou must give it where 'tis due,
Give it there to the heart's desire.
Whom do I give my bosom to?
(O Troy's down,
Tall Troy's on fire!)
“Each twin breast is an apple sweet.
(O Troy Town!)
Once an apple stirred the beat
Of thy heart with the heart's desire:—
Say, who brought it then to thy feet?
(O Troy's down,
Tall Troy's on fire!)
“They that claimed it then were three:
(O Troy Town!)
For thy sake two hearts did he
Make forlorn of the heart's desire.
Do for him as he did for thee!
(O Troy's down,
Tall Troy's on fire!)
“Mine are apples grown to the south,
(O Troy Town!)
Grown to taste in the days of drouth,
Taste and waste to the heart's desire:
Mine are apples meet for his mouth.”
(O Troy's down,
Tall Troy's on fire!)
Venus looked on Helen's gift,
(O Troy Town!)
Looked and smiled with subtle drift,
Saw the work of her heart's desire:—
“There thou kneel'st for Love to lift!”
(O Troy's down,
Tall Troy's on fire!)
Venus looked in Helen's face,
(O Troy Town!)
Knew far off an hour and place,
And fire lit from the heart's desire;
Laughed and said, “Thy gift hath grace!”
(O Troy's down,
Tall Troy's on fire!)
Cupid looked on Helen's breast,
(O Troy Town!)
Saw the heart within its nest,
Saw the flame of the heart's desire,—
Marked his arrow's burning crest.
(O Troy's down,
Tall Troy's on fire!)
Cupid took another dart,
(O Troy Town!)
Fledged it for another heart,
Winged the shaft with the heart's desire,
Drew the string and said, “Depart!”
(O Troy's down,
Tall Troy's on fire!)
Paris turned upon his bed,
(O Troy Town!)
Turned upon his bed and said,
Dead at heart with the heart's desire—
“Oh to clasp her golden head!”
(O Troy's down,
Tall Troy's on fire!)
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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The Ships to Troy
1
I saw a ship,
Burning gold
And she is off
To the city of Troy.
2
I saw another ship,
Burning jewels
Off she goes
To the city of Troy.
3
The ship will all
Return soon
And the ship of gold
Was sold at Troy.
4
I saw a boat
Made of steels,
And last she goes
To the city I know.
poem by by unknown author
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There was an old person of Troy,
Whose drink was warm brandy and soy,
Which he took with a spoon,
By the light of the moon,
In sight of the city of Troy.
quote by by Edward Lear
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About Troy
1
Troy O Troy
an archeologist
will sift your ashes through his fingers
yet a fire occurred greater than that of the Iliad
for seven strings--
too few strings
one needs a chorus
a sea of laments
and thunder of mountains
rain of stone
--how to lead
people away from the ruins
how to lead
the chorus from poems--
thinks the faultless poet
respectably mute
as a pillar of salt
--The song will escape unharmed
It escaped
with flaming wing
into a pure sky
The moon rises over the ruins
Troy O Troy
The city is silent
The poet struggles with his own shadow
The poet cries like a bird in the void
The moon repeats its landscape
gentle metal in smoldering ash
2
They walked along ravines of former streets
as if on a red sea of cinders
and wind lifted the red dust
faithfully painted the sunset of the city
They walked along ravines of former streets
they breathed on the frozen dawn in vain
they said: long years will pass
before the first house stands here
they walked along ravines of former streets
they thought they would find some traces
a cripple plays
on a harmonica
about the braids of a willow
about a girl
the poet is silent
rain falls
poem by Zbigniew Herbert
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Achilles And The Slaying Of Hector
Achilles took the slain body of proud Prince Hector
slit holes through warrior corpse ankles and proceeded
to drag Hector’s defeated slain body behind his chariot
an ignoble act of revenge bitterness hate anger contempt
Achilles killed proud Hector with a single spear thrust
Achilles refused to eat mourns on Olympian ambrosia
Achilles killed Hector with a spear thrust into the neck
proud noble neck the only vulnerable on Hector’s body
Hector who wore the god made prize armour of Achilles
armour stripped from slain Patroclus beloved of Achilles
in grief how anger festered into revenge rage in Achilles
Hector victim of vengeance dies a slow agonizing death
Hector accepted his fate begged Achilles treat his body
with respect once slain but hubris was wrath of Achilles
shamelessly Achilles desecrates the Trojan heroes body
for nine days dragging slain corpse around the battlefield
for nine days denying King Priam funeral rites for his son
Achilles enraged cared nothing for feelings of Hector’s family
shamed humiliated is corpse of Hector dragged behind chariot
Achilles what great rage passions storm in soul possessed
Achilles who addressed Hector like an entreating dog
stated as he killed him it was hopeless to expect respect
for his slain defeated corpse declared 'my rage, my fury
would drive me now to hack your flesh away and eat
you raw — such agonies you have caused me' “For what
you've done. No one can keep the dogs off of your head,
not if they brought me ransom of ten or twenty times as much,
or more' then Achilles slices Hector's head hanging only
by skin thus fell Trojan prince Hector to pride arrogance
Achilles of scorn wrath slayer of Hector son of King Priam
Hector with wife child who fought to defend his city family
even Zeus was dismayed by hubris abuse to Hector's body
at the command of Zeus Hermes led King Priam in a wagon
out of Troy across the plains into the Greek camp unnoticed
to Achilles' tent to plead with Achilles for a slain son's body
to permit a father to perform his funeral rites for son Hector
Priam grasped Achilles by the knees and begged this feared
killer of so many of his sons to worthy ransom his son's body
Priam begged by the gods kissed the hand of Achilles killer
of his sons stirred Achilles' grief to tears to claim corpse son
only then after nine days of bitter agony did Priam at Achilles
feet begging reclaim Hector's body to take back into city Troy
only then could funeral rites be preformed only then could the
desecrated corpse of Hector be buried as Troy the city mourns
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Fall of Troy
Learnt from Chapman's Homer*
A story full of grace and glamour
Killings of Royals, warriors and multitude
Fall of Troy is
A melodrama of ancient attitude
Sans Merci, sans certitude
War that was waged in heaven
Amongst deities of love wedding and wisdom**
To be crowned as fairest of heavenly kingdom,
Poor Prince from Trojan race
Chose to settle that celestial FACE
Ah! This sin of Paris was un-forgiven
***Brought thousands ships towards Trojan haven.
The wall of Troy
Besieged by savage and sages
For term of ten years ages
Prince Hector the decent, daredevil
Embraced Achilles` wrath and kissed the peril.
Days and nights, round the clock
Trojans, Achaeans clashed like a giant rocks
Hector, Aeneas, Paris, Agenor and Sarpedon****
Achilles, Odysseus, Ajax, Patroclus and Agamemnon*****
For worthless love and fairy******
Troy lost her grace and glory
poem by Gulsher john
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There was a Young Lady of Troy,
Whom several large flies did annoy;
Some she killed with a thump,
Some she drowned at the pump,
And some she took with her to Troy.
quote by by Edward Lear
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No second Troy
How could I reproach her
that she brings destruction to me,
turns my whole life upside down
and aimless hate rather than love
radiates from her.
How was she able
to estrange me from work
and the people in the street
with slander,
that goes over whole continents,
with robbery, lies and curses
that rain down purposelessly.
Where could she find peace
with a spirit that devours
every thing around her
like a fire from hell,
while she thinks that she’s honourable
and her beauty greater
than that of the girls of today,
was enough to drive any man
to madness.
No second Troy would she burn,
no, the whole world would be aflame
if she could reach her hands to it.
[Reference: No second Troy by William Butler Yeats.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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War Can Destroy
When all around me
There is war
Please do not destroy
Me - I am Keeng Royalness Troy
---------
Written By: Royalness Troy Turner,
Keeng Of England In Canada North America
poem by Royalness Troy Turner
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Part of the Dialogue Between Hector and Andromache
She ceas'd; then godlike Hector answer'd kind -
(His various plumage sporting in the wind)
'That post and all the rest shall be my care;
But shall I then forsake the unfinish'd war?
How would the Trojans brand great Hector's name!
And one base action sully all my fame,
Acquired by wounds, and battles bravely fought!
Oh! how my soul abhors so mean a thought.
Long have I learnt to slight this feeble breath,
And view with cheerful eyes approaching death.
The inexorable sisters have decreed
That Priam's house and Priam's self shall bleed:
The day shall come, in which proud Troy shall yield,
And spread its smoking ruins o'er the field.
Yet Hecuba's, nor Priam's hoary age,
Whose blood shall quench some Grecian's thirsty rage;
Their souls dismiss'd through many a ghastly wound,
Can in my bosom half that grief create,
As the sad thought of your impending fate:
When some proud Grecian dame shall tasks impose,
Mimic your years, and ridicule your woes:
Beneath Hyperia's waters shall you sweat,
And, fainting, scarce support the liquid weight:
Then shall some Argive loud insulting cry,
'Behold the wife of Hector, guard of Troy!'
Tears, at my name, shall drown those beauteous eyes,
And that fair bosom heave with rising sighs!
Before that day, by some brave hero's hand,
May I lie slain, and spurn the bloody sand!'
poem by Samuel Johnson
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BkI:XV Nereus’ Prophecy of Troy
While Paris, the traitorous shepherd, her guest,
bore Helen over the waves, in a ship from Troy,
Nereus, the sea-god, checked the swift breeze
with an unwelcome calm, to tell
their harsh fate: ‘You’re taking a bird of ill-omen,
back home, whom the Greeks, new armed, will look for again,
having sworn to destroy the marriage your planning
and the empire of old Priam.
Ah, what sweated labour for men and for horses
draws near! What disaster you bring for the Trojan
people! Athene’s already prepared her helm,
breastplate, chariot, and fury.
Uselessly daring, through Venus’ protection,
you’ll comb your hair and pluck at the peace-loving lyre,
make the music for songs that please girls: uselessly
you’ll hide, in the depths of your room,
from the heavy spears, from the arrows of Cretan
reeds, and the noise of the battle, and swift-footed
Ajax quick to follow: yet, ah too late, you’ll bathe
your adulterous hair in the dust!
Have you thought of Ulysses, the bane of your race,
have you even considered Pylian Nestor?
Teucer of Salamis presses you fearlessly,
Sthenelus, skilful in warfare,
and if it’s a question of handling the horses
he’s no mean charioteer. And Meriones
you’ll know him too. See fierce Tydides, his father’s
braver, he’s raging to find you.
As the deer sees the wolf there, over the valley,
and forgets its pastures, a coward, you’ll flee him,
breathing hard, as you run, with your head thrown high,
not as you promised your mistress.
The anger of Achilles’ armies may delay
the day of destruction for Troy and its women:
but after so many winters the fires of Greece
will burn the Dardanian houses.’
What happened with the city of Troy proved that you must carefully look a gift horse in the mouth.
aphorism by Hasier Agirre, translated by Dan Costinaş
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Trojan Soldier
Trojan Soldier
Protik Osman
Saddest of the people
Running through the shores.
Black macaws
Covers the sky.
And everything was
Gloaming bright.
Mace-faced puppies
Running through the sand,
And behind them was
A Trojan soldier.
A soldier whose running leg pressed, when stopped
Against the beach’s beautiful.
He ran and then stopped-
Can see him well,
He was like a man from hell.
His armor was bold
And one sword, which was gold,
On the helmet was written in English:
One City of Troy.
His face was full of joy
And too was sorrow.
After some time he ran away
From this gracious beach.
And saw them all
Very clear.
As if all were
Nor so clear.
poem by Protik Osman
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Penelope To Ulysses.
Return my dearest Lord, at length return,
Let me no longer your sad absence mourn,
Ilium in Dust, does no more Work afford,
No more Employment for your Wit or Sword.
Why did not the fore-seeing Gods destroy,
Helin the Fire-brand both of Greece and Troy,
E're yet the Fatal Youth her Face had seen,
E're lov'd and born away the wanton Queen?
Then had been stopt the mighty Floud of Woe,
Which now both Greece and Phrygia over-flow:
Then I, these many Teares, should not have shed,
Nor thou, the source of them, to War been led:
I should not then have trembled at the Fame
Of Hectors warlike and victorious Name.
Why did I wish the Noble Hector Slain?
Why Ilium ruin'd? Rise, O rise again!
Again great City flourish from thine Urne:
For though thou'rt burn'd, my Lord does not return.
Sometimes I think, (but O most Cruel Thought,)
That, for thy Absence, th' art thy self in fault:
That thou art captiv'd by some captive Dame,
Who, when thou fired'st Troy, did thee inflame
And now with her thou lead'st thy am'rous Life,
Forgetful, and despising of thy Wife.
poem by Anne Killigrew
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Prologue To The Argive Women
(Odysseus before the House of Paris.)
OD. About this wicked house ten years
The strife 'twixt Troy and Greece has surged
Since rifling Paris, thief and traitor,
Drew all men to the hue and cry
Menelaus made after him ;
And me, Laertes' son, my lands
And wife and child forsook, he drew
Into the weary insatiable years
Of slaughter, man to man, and Doom
Long-gathered, palsying heart and heart,
And Valour pent in little room—
Ten years abrim, but in this tenth,
Now at the last, within this hour,
To drown the city and the sin
In one great well of blood, hence flooding
Where Paris keeps her his delight,
Soon to prove bane of Troy—and his.
His, for her heart is changed ; she now
Longs for her husband, for her child,
For Lacedaemon, where she was born
And wooed, and learned her shameful lore,
The which now loathing, him her teacher,
Him her sleek thief she scorns, being all
Virgin for him who loved her first,
Nor ever swerved through years denied ;
And he, at last in sight
Of his reward, kneels for the crown,
He for the crown, a crowned king,
Of his high heart and purpose.
Yet
Not he alone, nor Greece alone
Made war in this high quarrel. Nay,
The gods themselves flung into it
Their pomp and panoply of storm,
Terrors of sky and sea, great winds,
Thunder and blown fire, and flood tides
And irresistible surge of the main,
Some to uphold the Dardan house,
And some the wile of Kypris even
Whose sweet poison made Helen sinner ;
And some, as raving Ares, thus
Fulfill'd their natures, to whom men
Are as a tilth to weed, with spear
In visible hand, and battle shout
In terrible mouth ; and met in shock
Other celestial forms, and them
Highest of all and most to us—
Nearer to us for our more need—
Who cried upon the sin : faith broke,
Troth-plight made mockery, oath in vain,
Shameful things shameless done—and them
I serve, and with them plot the end
Of Troy and of the war.
So here
Enwombed in wood, we wait the yeaning
Of that great Horse, the which by wit
Athene-given Epeios made
And I conceived, hid up in arms,
The greatest of us and the best
Hidden here within the walls,
Within the heart of obdurate Troy,
Ready to issue forth,
Seize gates and open, that the tide
Even now girding at the walls
Surge in and cleanse the iniquity
Which to high Heaven has bared so long
A braggart blasphemous head.
But first
There is a deed for her to do,
Who by one wrong inuring wrong
Must now requite it, she alone
Before she can anoint the knees
Of her offended with her tears,
Before he dare to lift her up
To his fair bed and board ; for Zeus
Who set our world, set it in law
Which not himself can break. Ye men
Who live by labour, what ye sow
That ye shall eat, and what ye eat
That ye shall win again by sowing.
Therefore let Helen sow in tears
And reap her joy, and eat with rue
That which she shameful sowed. Thus she
I serve, the gray-eyed Goddess, bids,
And thus her messenger I await
Helen within the wicked house
In this last throw of Troy with Doom.
(He hides himself. The curtains part and
disclose the women's house in the House of
Paris. The play begins.)
poem by Maurice Hewlett
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Aeneas carried his aged father on his back from the ruins of Troy and so do we all, whether we like it or not, perhaps even if we have never known them.
quote by Angela Carter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Answer to Tait
The mounted disk of ebonite
Has whirled before, nor whirled in vain;
Rowland of Troy, that doughty knight,
Convection currents did obtain
In such a disk, of power to wheedle,
From its loved North the subtle needle.
’Twas when Sir Rowland, as a stage
From Troy to Baltimore, took rest
In Berlin, there old Archimage,
Armed him to follow up this quest;
Right glad to find himself possessor
Of the irrepressible Professor.
But wouldst thou twirl that disk once more,
Then follow in Childe Rowland’s train,
To where in busy Baltimore
He brews the bantlings of his brain;
As he may do who still prefers
One Rowland to two Olivers.
But Rowland,—no, nor Oliver,-—
Could get electromotive force,
Which fact and reason both aver,
Has change of some kind as its source,
Out of a disk in swift rotation
Without the least acceleration.
But with your splendid roundabout
Of mighty power, new-hung and greasy,
With galvanometer so stout,
A new research would be as easy;
A test which might perchance disclose,
Which way the electric current flows.
Take then a coil of copper pure,
And fix it on your whirling table;
Place the electrodes firm and sure
As near the axis as you’re able,
And soon you’ll learn the way to work it,
With galvanometer in circuit.
Not while the coil in spinning sleeps,
On her smooth axle swift and steady;
But when against the stops she sweeps,
To watch the light-spot then be ready,
That you may learn from its deflexion
The electric current’s true direction.
It may be that it does not move,
Or moves but for some other reason;
Then let it be your boast to prove
(Though some may think it out of season,
And worthy of a fossil Druid),
That there is no Electric Fluid.
poem by James Clerk Maxwell
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Helen of Troy
A mythological beauty, she had been;
A legendary beauty, she had grown.
Who is it other than Helen of Troy,
The epitome of seductive beauty?
A symbol of man’s erotic desires,
From the other women, Helen differs
In that she never employed her charms
To gain power of self-aggrandizement.
Her era dates back to fifth century B.C.
The fairest of women had been the one
Whom all women should hate and yet envy,
And all men should fear and yet desire.
No wonder, men were captive of her charm,
But not was she captive of any man..
She had admirers; none did she admire.
Her fairness deserved more than what she got.
A puppet she was in the heavenly battle,
Where Greek Gods and Goddesses had sported.
As such, she must be absolved of the taints
She was attached with, sadistically.
Helen was the daughter of Zeus and Leda,
The Greek God and Goddess. Born of an egg,
And brought up by a shepherd, she became
The prince of Sparta, a kingdom’f the Greek.
At her age ten, Helen was kidnapped
By an Athenian Hero for her charm
And was, however, brought back unscathed
By her brother; so famous she became.
At Helen’s wedding, numerous suitors
From far and wide came to claim her fair hand.
They were made to swear an oath to defend
The chosen husband in the event of
A rival attempting to abduct Helen,
The beauty who bred danger where she trod.
The oath assumed a greater importance
In the development of the Trojan War.
Helen was married to Menelaus,
A warrior, on his highest offerings.
On king’s death, he became the king of Sparta.
Helen bore a daughter; nine years rolled.
Paris, a Trojan Prince, came to Sparta
To marry Helen, whom he had been promised
By Aphrodite, after he had chosen her
As the fairest of all the goddesses
So that she could claim the golden apple
Thrown by the Goddess, Eris, from anger
Of not being invited by King Peleus
For his marriage to Sea Nymph Thetis.
Once Paris arrived in the house,
And Menelaus was fated to leave it,
Helen eloped with Paris to Trojan.
The war broke, all suitors participated
The war lasting for over nine years,
Helen lived these years as a willing captive,
More to the design of Aphrodite.
It is unfair to brand her as unfaithful..
The end of the war was brought about
Through the Trojan horse built and left ashore,
With their heroes hidden in it. The foes
Drew the horse into the fort for their fate.
The heroes sacked the city and captured
And caged the fairest queen to her shame.
The Greeks and the Trojans despised her alike.
No woman of her status could be that worst.
Menelaus was to slay his faithless wife.
As he raised his sword, , she dropped her robe
From her shoulders, revealing her assets.
It made him let the sword dropp from his hand.
Helen defied Aphrodite to remain
With Paris, who was soon to meet his death.
Her woes about her hasty decision
To leave Sparta and her spouse crippled her.
‘I will not serve his bed since the Trojan women
Hereafter would laugh at me, all, and my heart
Even now is confused with sorrow’
Helen lamented thus to Aphrodite.
Helen returned as the queen of Sparta.
Chastity, outraged, could be recovered;
Women are resilient, given a chance.
Helen is a proof for all men to note.
How Helen looked, no clues;
Yet her name has power
To inflame men’s heart, ho!
20.08.2008
[Aphrodite is Greek Goddess her counterpart is Venus.
Zeus is Greek God, his counterpart is Jupiter.]
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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