 | The violet crown by Sir Rennell Rodd |  |
There's an eagle lit on Pindus with dripping beak and red,
Between his crimson talons, he holds a severed head,
He feasts upon the olive eyes that lack their lustre-light,
And keener grows a hundredfold the orbit of his sight.
He cracks the skull in pieces and picks the scattered brain,
And fiercer grows his courage and more his might and main,
He feels his pinions stronger and longer many spans,
With the strength and youth and hardihood that were the murdered man's.
O Ali, dog of Jannina, the headsman of the east,
Chimári well remembers who makes the eagles' feast!
Between his crimson talons, he holds a severed head,
He feasts upon the olive eyes that lack their lustre-light,
And keener grows a hundredfold the orbit of his sight.
He cracks the skull in pieces and picks the scattered brain,
And fiercer grows his courage and more his might and main,
He feels his pinions stronger and longer many spans,
With the strength and youth and hardihood that were the murdered man's.
O Ali, dog of Jannina, the headsman of the east,
Chimári well remembers who makes the eagles' feast!
| The violet crown by Sir Rennell Rodd | |