Persepolis

Among the scrub of hills enstoned with Persian script
the slender elegant poplars stand
with sapling spruce like fine paintbrushes taper tipped
in re-afforestation land.

The scoured background mountains chiselled in bas-relief
anticipate Persepolis
as lines behind each proud though subjugated chief
engraved within the edifice.

Where lions savage horses distant emperors
and local kings queued patiently
to give their tribute to the greatest conquerors
thus far in ancient history.

The murals catalogue the diverse styles of dress,
the beards in curls and ringlet hair,
Persian pyjamas giving trousers to the West,
Asian variety to spare.

But past the stark simplicity of Cyrus' tomb,
in outlook though not miles or years,
inheritance of power and riches presaged doom
when decadence met foreign spears.

The rock-built platform of Achaemenian fame
weighed down with monumental pride
was shaken when the upstart European came
and made the East and West collide.

Yet Alexander and Darius thought the same
in many ways: men could be gods
until a later militant religion came
with anti-immorality squads.

Now a reminder of a freer grander age,
the palace where those legends strode
stands an anathema to Islam's soldier-sage;
yet golden eagles scan the road.