It was as if the dawn broke forth in song
as Alexander lay concealed in Olympias’ womb.
The forests of Macedonia rustled in accord,
surrounding Pella’s grove at Phillip’s castle.
The young prince saddled his horse and rode
toward the East,
transforming the world.
Bucephalus strained,
Bucephalus stamped,
Bucephalus struggled
against the youth’s strength.
The Iliad ran through his dreams,
engrossed … soon he stood upon the hill of Troy …
Achilles was near.
We remember Issus Battle, Darius’ death,
the battlefield at Gaugamela,
Persepolis reduced to ruins…
Still Susa’s fountains add their melodious melody
to the joyous sound of strings and wedding dance,
as Orient’s splendor with the legion was entwined.
The young man’s path led on to the heights of Hindu Kush
where battle he did win, but lost Bucephalus.
Babylon, Babylon, Babylon cries silently
for a young son of Greece,
the friend of his youth, Hephaestion,
Iskander even…
A king’s golden throne is shattered,
scattering stardust through the night for light.
For centuries the desert sands remain aglow,
borne within a mind as old as time.
Twilight falls, spreading its glow over the Euphrates,
from whose depths Hellas’ legacy emerges,
harbored in the dawn as it breaks forth in song..
