In ranks they stood and made no sound;
The Persians were all dead –
The ones who chose to hold their ground;
The others had all fled.
For traitor’s lives nobody cared;
Dispatched they were to graves.
The few miraculously spared,
In chains they went as slaves.
Their masters promised gold and bread;
Their loyalty bought for loot.
Now harnessed to a plough or dead,
They’re paid in bitter fruit.