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The Diadochi
When word was brought that Alexander was dead
In Babylon, gossips said it was not true;
For if that demigod spirit had shed
So vast a corpse, its corruption then through
The whole world would reek; men from Carthage
To India would pause and sniff the air,
That by the stench declared the End of Age
Like an incense-wafted funeral prayer.
Yet he was dead, and in time earth did stink
With the metal tang of blood. Forty years
His funeral games were held, and men did think
His dying crueler than his life. More tears
And blood they shed, his diadem to strive,
Than he had spilled in Asia, when alive.
poem
by
Mark Sauer
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