The Helm of Hector
Do I frighten thee my child?
To cause thee fear I had not meant,
But only to hold thee a while.
I had come to kiss thee goodbye,
For fear I’ve brought I doth lament,
And wipe tears from thy mother’s eyes.
Thou must not recognise me,
Beneath the plumes of horse’s hair,
I must look so strange to thee.
When thou art grown, I would have wished,
To raise thee manly and with care,
But instead I am bid down to Dis.
The brazen bronze of helm doth shine,
Apollo’s rays bounce from mine brow,
But the light that I behold is thine.
I shalt set mine shining helmet down,
Spend what little time the Gods allow,
With thee before I go to ground.
I cannot stand to see thee cry,
So I remove this dreaded helm,
And thou can see it’s only I.
I am a soldier, bound by duty,
A Prince of Troy, of all the realm!
An honour that shall pass to thee.
My most precious possession,
In mine arms I hold thee,
Thou symbol now of Troy’s protection.
Before long mine death is sure,
And that is why thy mother weeps;
When thou art grown, be strong for her.
Thou shalt bear the crown of Priam,
Thou shalt be our Troja’s shield!
Thou shalt be twice the man I am.
Achaeans shall cower from thee in fear,
I shall see thee again in Elysian Fields,
What tales of glory we shalt share!
But until that day comes, my boy,
It is thee who I shalt miss the most,
Most precious thing in all of Troy.
Worth more to me than life, my child,
Dearer to me all the riches of Ilios,
I shalt wait for thee in Blessed Isles.