“Hail Caesar” called noble Brutus,
Then he pierced him with his blade.
And many grey haired Roman men
Did smile at Caesar slain,
And many Gallic mothers wept
With joy to hear the word
That Caesar soaked the senate floor
Full red with Roman blood.
For in the woods which made men mad
Were mounds of Gallic skulls
Who’d spoken with Caesar in
The only tongue he understood.
What gallant blood did soak the soil
In far Gaul’s ancient groves,
Now paid in kind these bitter Ides
When Caesar died in Rome.
Far to the north across the seas
Upon white chalky cliffs
There burned full high a funeral pyre
Of wood from Caesar’s ships.
And to the south beneath
A cruel sun that never slept,
There wept behind high palace walls
A maid with babe at breast.
In years to come men whispered
Caesar’s name with Roman pride.
But as a man is born to rise
He’s also born to die.
Ides of March MMXVII