Peyo H.
Google
--- 8th October ---
Beneath the cliffs where Nestor once did reign,
And olive groves drank sun and salt and rain,
A bay lay sleeping, wide and deep and still
Till cannon roared to break an empire’s will.
The mastheads rose like forests on the sea,
Three nations met where Greece longed to be free.
The wind grew loud with smoke and iron breath,
And freedom danced between the jaws of death.
No trumpet called, yet hearts like lightning burned.
The tide of war had silently turned.
Navarino - where tyrants met their fate,
And Greece was lifted by the hand of fate.
Not just by sword, but will and foreign grace,
She carved her name on time’s eternal face.
And though the ships are gone, the bay still knows
The fire that fell, and the wind that rose.