The purple Royal banners waft above his armor's steel;
the Mongol chieftain bids relentlessly his wit,
young Genghis Khan, the Temujin, applies his sovereign zeal,
to merge the lands beneath his will, the warlords to befit.
Consorted by Princess Börte of the Onggirat tribe,
the martial Temujin receives high honors by the clans;
a skillful warrior invades the lands while his young bride,
awaits; for only one predestinated is to be her man.
The chieftain slaughters so his passage through the lands,
invincible his tactics are, and triumphs ascertain,
advance his rule, expand his territorial rights and spoils,
while Börte, granting loyalty, in virtue she ordains.
How valued is the flight of eagles that conducting high, above,
depict trajectories, and soar to vanish where the Gods
embrace the sadness of unanswered prayers and bridal love,
the Royal maid in loneliness, defends against all odds?
So priceless have become their plumes upon the Mongol plains,
where the persistent Northern winds enfold the steppe and ghosts
while Princess Börte serves her solitude, stands tall and reigns,
believing that her Temujin bestows his kind riposte!
" Support him Goddess of the moon when grooming Charon thuds
and sends the clanging of the steel, commanding, the lost souls,
to travel the descending route of coursing loveless blood,
and through the gusting of the winds, transports their saddened calls. "
© 01-20-2014, G. Venetopoulos, All Rights Reserved
(Rhyming Iambic heptameter)
