The Olive Tree Of A Hero Poem by Joseph S. Josephides

You grew up in a cave as a brave one,
relaxed you comb your hair in Thermopylaes*.

Hallow is the armful of the wretched ones,
they hear but only using the ears of their king!

Arrested to be hanged, you asked them to let you
listen to the Heroica of Beethoven. In silence.

Do you hear your friends' violins that cry?
The folks spread the flag over your belly.

The tears are flowing from the cells
to your tomb which shivers by the kisses.

An olive tree has sprouted onto your body;
on its top birds knit for you a soul’s nest.


JosephJosephides