Classic Poem

With its moats filled and its breastworks fallen down
and its walls crumbling, our scarred and ancient
city cannot withstand a war! What will become of it?
Kings with fast horses and their royal drums roaring
like the thunder when the rain comes, have arrived at dawn
and they roam around our towering gate! Her brothers,
with their power to confront and kill, won't be satisfied
without a fight! Over the lovely, well-formed breasts
of the young girl with red-lined, darkened eyes like the sharp
blade of a spear flourished in the work of battle,
as the bracelets dance on her wrists, the spots of her puberty are spreading!