Epic, Lyric, and Elegiac Poems of Andreas Libavius

The same force consumes the enemy fighting from above,
Three hundred of the strongest backs of men fell,
Oppressed by the rocks, or snatched by flame and darkness.
Just as the fires which the earth feeds with a hidden passage,
With the wish impelling in different parts, have shone forth
Together, and with the barrier of the earth having been broken,
With a sound, they seek the heights, and they scatter and rush through
Everything in the circuit, and the hills and the homes,
And with the men, the cattle and the whole herds suddenly.
Part places its soul in the sky, part sheds the limbs crushed
By weight and stones, near the lowest shades.
But nor is the Melapyrgian virtue sluggish in the presence of Mars,
Not knowing how to stand in place, it moves and drives the Phalanxes,
It must be dared bravely, and penalties must be sought from the dire blood;
At the same time, tireless, he seeks the citadel in the ascent
Where the fierce BASHA and the faces of six hundred men
Had hidden themselves, all prompt to defend the thresholds,
Or to suffer the extremes with a frenzied mind of evils.
The Melapyrgian batters at the gates, and with a twisted torch
He breaks the bars of the house, not so is the Epirian rock
Shaken by thunderous missiles, and splits with the blow.
Mars mows everything with iron, and drains the hollow chests
With frequent wounds, not knowing how to be satisfied with one.
But nevertheless, the virtue of the Basha stood out before all,
For intrepid to die, he seizes two swords in each hand
To the hilt, and brandishing them through every
Part in the circuit, he did not provide a living thing to anyone.
He could have been stretched out on the sand by spears,
And dragged in the Caesarean triumph according to the old custom,
But his swift spirits forbid it, and his rages, the ministers,
Neither docile to suffer consultation. Therefore he falls by the javelin,
Having confessed by the spike, and he pours out his soul with his blood.