Christopher James Bacolas has strong greek roots, having the Greek namesake of Bacolas. Mythology has always intrigued Christopher James Bacolas.
I read this book when I was in high school, and i was deeply in love with the stories. If anyone is interested in Greek mythology, this book is highly recommended.
History began with myth; be you Chinese, be you Vikings, be you American Indian, and be you Greek.
Just try, and I mean, try hard to imagine once upon a time, way before we exist, our ancestors, our father’s father’s father and our mother’s mother’s mother…., they were so primitive, so close to the Land whose souls were far purer than ours. They were curious at the nature and the propositions such as life, fate, love, good wills and evils; and they paint out their perceptions on the world with empathy, understanding, imagination and a surprisingly rich sense. Greek myths, as a result, rock the world even after centuries.
Greek myth is the bible which lends me the hope and courage I need in life....Continua
This was too much. The torrent of Medea's wrongs burst forth. "You come to me?" she said -
To me, of all the rrace of men?
Yet it wis well you came.
For I shall ease the burden of my heart
If I can make your baseness manifest.
I saved you. Every man in Greece knows that.
The bulls, the dragon-men, the serpent warder of the Fleece,
I conquered them. I made you victor.
I held the light that saved you.
Father and home - I left them
For a strange country.
I overthrew your foes,
Contrived for Pelias the worst of deaths.
Now you forsake me.
Where shall I go? Back to my father's house?
To Pelias' daughters? I have become for you
The enemy of all.
Myself, I had no quarrel with them.
Oh, I have had in you
A loyal husband, to be admired of men.
An exile now, O God, O God.
No one to help. I am alone.
Weeping, my little one? There, there.
You cannot know what waits for you.
--How will it be? Falling down--down--all broken--
And none to pity.
Kiss me. Never again. Come closer, closer.
Your mother who bore you - put your arms around my neck.
Now kiss me, lips to lips.
The soldiers carried him away. Just before they threw him from the wall they had killed on Achilles' grave a young girl, hecuba's daughter Polyxena. With the death of hector's son, Troy's last sacrifice was accomplished. The women waiting for the ships watched the end.
Troy has perished, the great city.
Only the red flame now lives there.
The dust is rising, spreading out like a great wing of smoke,
And all is hidden.
We now are gone, one here, one there.
And Troy is gone forever.
Farewell, dear city.
Farewell, my country, where my children lived.
There below, the Greek ships wait.