The Mound -Charsadda. Poem by Margery Rehman

Among the lush ploughed red earth
Lies an empty area, a neglected ground
Strewn with shards, accumulated waste
Of a people forgotten long ago
But for the ancient man-made mound.

The villagers tell how a tremendous host
A massive army out of Bactria came,
Led by a boy, whose helmet had ram's horns.
They battled, then rested for a while in this old fort
Before marching south towards the Indus plain.

They say that when the August moon begins to wane
Clashing metal, ghostly voices can be heard
And a shadow is thrown across the plain
Of the great two-horned god, their forefather
Alexander, known to them as Zulquarnain.