You Dorians, did you ever believed you could conquer us
with spears, or split our bodies with double-edged swords?
How ignorant you are! It’s hard to explain to you the miracle,
that which operates for the strongholds of our holy history,
on the anvil of our heart, burning as the nucleus of earth.
Look our eyes, the reflect the frescos on our walls,
our dolphins, do recognize the flowers and Argonauts,
the discus of Phaestos, the tablet books of Gortyna.
If you bring us to our knees, our soul will stand still,
if you ruin us we’ll create again from the scratch
using all that dead ancestors and God donated to us.
I you dare to humiliate us we shall reign again
with our children, skilful in the double-edged axes,
who tame and play with the bulls, dexterous in jobs,
with our women competing for equal merits with men
with the law of Minos a lesson for us to live wisely.
Yet, while you sleep in the night, nightmares will wrap you
by the snakes and octopuses emerged from our vessels,
our winged horses and our bulls will besiege you all.
Willy-nilly, you'll be reborn suckling our culture.
So, learn from us to fold your bodies thus to enter
the sarcophagus with all your armor… then tomorrow
you shall revive with us elsewhere. Conquest is there,
without swords and spears, oh conquered conquerors.
© JosephJosephides
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem