To be on the vast battlefields,
To see all the phalanxes
So heavy, the earth almost yields,
Shields, spears, swords, arrows, and axes,
And the tremor of fury builds.
On this new day, the sun rises.
Routing the straight lines of soldiers,
Heavy hooves beating sandy grounds.
Rains of arrows over borders.
Everywhere, many screaming sounds
As background to barking orders,
Din of battle, and Trojan hounds.
The ones being killed are screaming,
So do those doing the killing
Over human entrails ripping.
Footfalls, clanging swords on armor.
A gigantic, swirling river.
Fiery flames that grow more and more.
Worst of humanity’s fever
Appeared in its fullest horror,
But the blind bard sang forever.
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