Carol Anne Duffy: Achilles

Myth’s river – where his mother
dipped him, fished him, a
slippery golden boy flowed on,
his name on its lips.

Without him, it was prophesied,
they would not take Troy.

Women hid him, concealed him
in girls’ sarongs; days of
sweetmeats, spices, silver songs …

But when Odysseus came, with an
athlete’s build, a sword and a shield,
he followed him to the battlefield,
the crowd’s roar,

And it was sport, not war,
his charmed foot on the ball …

But then his heel, his heel, his heel …

A verset David Beckham ínszakadása ihlette