(From a Greek Sculpture)
Archer, drawn against the centuries,
take from us the cast of time,
show us the weapon and the man
where grace and proportion are sublime,
show us the jungle and the field
without terror, without the machine,
show us the battle and the war
where the gods still intervene.
Archer, from under the lion’s hood,
from the ramparts of your heart
what understanding do you protect,
what nobility do you impart?
From the simple magic of your limbs
and the clear shining of your eyes
what ancient simplicity is revealed,
what worlds of dignity arise?
Archer, drawn against the centuries
of blood and fire, where is your trial,
where is the horror of battle
hidden beneath your archaic smile?