Aronautica

Sleep little dragon who’s guarding the fleece,

Though the robbers are coming from faraway Greece:

The Argo’s their ship, and the fleece is their prey,

And you, my poor dragon, no fiercer than they.

Jason has sworn that your sheepskin of gold

Will lie safely tonight in the Argo’s deep hold,

While Orpheus sings and her gallant crew rows,

And the broad sail unfurls as a friendly wind blows.

Strong is her mast, and illustrious her crew:

Polydueces and Castor and wise Nestor too,

And fair Atalanta, as swift as the dart

That pierced Talus’s ankle, and stilled his bronze heart.

None are so doughty and clever as these,

For they managed to sail through the Symplegades,

And Phineas dinner at last could complete

When they’d rid him of harpies who’d foul what he’d eat.

Dragon, you’ll slumber the sleep of the just,

Though you’re cruelly beheaded, your limbs in the dust;

Medea’ll dismember the brother she slew,

And she’ll murder the next girl that Jason shall woo.

Jason shall perish, for all his hopes now,

For he’s doomed to be crushed beneath his own ship’s prow,

Medea will flee once her killing spree’s through,

In a chariot drown by sweet serpents like you.

Some day they’ll prove, though some pedants may chaff,

That your bones are the bones of a giant giraffe;

But a bard with a banjo, two oceans away,

Will still sing how the Argonauts slew you today.

(Nick Humez)