In the Garden of the Heroes,

The flags gently fluttering in the breeze.

I see the statue of Byron

Against the deep blue sky.

Tall cypress and pine trees

Flank the statue on a high plinth,

While the flags of Greece and Britain.

Hang in the implacable sun.

Two hundred years ago,

He died supporting Greek independence.

The statue in his semblance,

Allegedly contains his lung.

The rest of his fevered body

Was sent back to England.

I sit in the shade, thinking of his greatness

As a lover of Poetry, Greece and Freedom.