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I took the man

with my throwing spear.


I raised up my victory paeon,

a-lai, a-lai, a-lai, ah.

His blood splashed warm on my feet.

I went to the shrine of the god

to make the holy offerings.

They threw flowers under my feet.

My beloved Alexias gave me a wreath,

green and simple as a youth’s,

lest they whisper ‘hubris.’

Then he knelt before me

and called me liberator.

Victory: Text
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