The wind blows begging
at the gates of Byzantium, cornered
by the sultan’s hoards of the East,
trampling the earth of Europe up into dust.

At the ancient strait the curved swords
cry for the blood of the infidels:
“Allah akbar!”, and the
marble turbans tumble down
towards the fortress, while
fireballs are wearing down the walls
until the sky is overwhelmed with
the shrieks of homeless swallows.