Porta (Ναξου)
Roaring, angry, wine dark sea,
Swollen in its rage,
Foaming stallions, marble white,
Charge the rocks, a blaze
Of sunlight, kissed aquatiscape,
To stretch before my eyes,
Atop the swirling, bloated sea,
A vessel, canonise
their bravery rowing, rows of three,
They seek Persia’s demise,
Outnumbered, yet with Godly aid,
Poseidon’s watchful eyes,
From my vantage on the rocks,
Apollo’s door behind,
Witness crashing, drowning death,
The endless sapphire grind
Shattered ships and swollen sons,
Mothers weep at home,
No burial for the sweet deceased,
In Hades their souls will roam,
Foam from Aphrodite’s birth,
Her droplets on my brow,
A burst of crystal clarity,
The goddess here and now,
Farewell to all the glorious dead,
Eternal warrior souls,
Farewell long triremes, war machines,
Your home now for the shoals,
As I stand here, Naxian rock,
Gaze out far to sea,
History, Myth, all tangible,
Sweet memory for me.
