Enter…

Joe Biden:

 

To think that we spent twenty years

To lead this backward land from tears!

Blood and treasure in the sand

Lost for this unyielding land!

 

I opposed it from the start,

You cannot change these people’s hearts;

And for some girls in Kabuls' needs

I will not let my soldiers bleed.

 

And please don’t talk of poetry

That world is simple, trouble-free,

And name me just one poet who

Has once for freedom given his due.

 

Go on, name one, here I am

US President, Joe Biden!

In fact, you conjure from the shades

Just one who has a difference made!

 

THERE IS A CRACK 0F THUNDER, LIGHTS FLICKER

AND THEN THERE IS HEARD A TAPPING OF A STICK…..

 

Enter….

Lord Byron:

 

Well I was resting when I heard

From somewhere else a far-off word,

Summoning me with living breath,

From my rest in peaceful death.

 

Ah, I see, a President

Of the USA has some intent

To hear of my last voyage to Greece,

So that an empire’s grasp would cease.

 

From a Yankee I would say,

I would rather have some way

A little nod, a signal small,

Than an Emperor’s cheery call.

 

He scorns the poets - I agree!

No dissent he’ll have from me.

A scribbler’s life is not complete,

They must in the world compete.

 

So of that voyage to Greece I’ll tell,

And draw out every parallel.

Along the way so you can see,

How runs the highway of the free.

 

So, Joe, please let me interject

And show where centuries intersect;

For the purpose of this play,

I can here all things survey.

 

Now both Greece and Afghanistan

Shared their warlords, tribes and clans;

Both with local rivalries

That had festered on for centuries.

 

And there the balances of power

Are watched like hawks from hour to hour.

Allegiances will change in length,

According to perceived strength.

 

So when news came that I had made

A loan, for ships towards Greece to sail,

Ottoman’s navy would withdraw

From posts by Missolonghi's shore.

 

And when news of my death was heard

Supplies and credit were deferred;

Volunteers faltered in their tallies,

Because round me they could not rally.

 

Thus when support from Afghans brave

Who fought their country for to save

Was cut, to leave them there forlorn,

A fatal signal sounded forth.

 

Now you’ve complained of money’s waste

By those corrupt – a true disgrace!

And why should Uncle Sam you say

For those corrupt and disloyal pay?

 

Those Afghans loyal to tricks were put:

So some could claim a bigger cut.

Their officers would the listings swell,

Neglecting them, their needs as well.

 

It was just the same for me.

I made the sad discovery

That officers of my fine Brigade

Had claimed and creamed off phantom pay.

 

Captains, majors conjured up,

So that they could better sup,

Tribesmen promoted beyond their dreams,

I raged when I unearthed their schemes.

 

In the end I closed that down –

With Suliote chiefs a mighty row.

Understandable but sad, it showed

Encircled I by charming rogues.

 

They were like our Highlanders of old:

Ungovernable, but brave and bold;

And in the end they had loved me,

The parting songs true eulogies.

 

But I digress, Joe Biden, here;

But this crucial point must now appear:

A strategic point that came to fore,

Some years after I was no more.

 

Greece, part of empire Ottoman,

Whose ships made sure their writ would run,

When Navarino cut that link

Then for sure their star would sink

 

Those they call the Taliban,

Found haven sure in Pakistan.

So I'd say if you'd cut that link –

Their fortunes would have had to sink.

 

In the end the reasons you

Had found that that, you could not do

Meant in the end you could not win,

But your example may yet spin

 

A future different in that land,

Can anyone those barbarians stand?

When they’ve had a glimpse of light,

Good government at least in sight.

 

The Greeks, the Greeks, to me they'd say

Could not be trusted night or day;

But to them I would reply:

‘Redeeming qualities you will find

 

In the humble countryman,

Corrupted not by devious plan.

And when at last misrule will lift

You'll find, maybe, that things will shift’.

 

One final thing I'll say to you:

Towards the land of Greece I threw

My energies, avoiding those

Warlords brave whose actions showed

 

Their visions were but localised,

To rule the roost with their own tribe.

My words, my acts, a demonstration

Not for a faction but a nation.

 

That nation soon would come to be

Independent proud and free

The first true nation European

For her – deserved poetic paean!

 

Joe Biden:

 

Well, Lord Byron it has been

A privilege to meet you here;

And I must withdraw my hasty words

That poets all are quite absurd.

 

For you sure made a sacrifice,

Your fame, your fortune and your life;

I abandoned Freedom’s cause,

And took the politician’s course.

 

Realpolitik, my dear Lord B

Scorned by you but key for me;

You lost your life in foreign land,

But by my judgment I must stand.

 

That blood was never mine to shed,

That treasure earned by those instead

Who cared not of these foreign lands,

– So by my ruling I must stand.

 

Sure, me and Kamala regret

The lives that now seem all too set

On women, forced by Taliban men

Returned to homes and robbed of pen

 

And of potential – chattels and

Their contributions to their land

Wished away and cruel ignored,

With faces to be seen no more.

 

But me and Kamala sleep at night,

Oh yes we do, for might is right.

There is what is, and what might be,

But that is not for us to see.

 

 

 

 

Find out more about

Byron's journey to Greece below...

 

Described by one of his friends as 'very clever and agreeable,

but vain, overbearing, conceited, suspicious and jealous';

another wrote 'God bless him for a gallant spirit and a kind one'.

When he went to Greece to support its struggle for

Independence his true qualities came to the fore....