Byron on an enslaved land of vanished greatness and the battle at Thermopylae

A sorrowful land of vanished greatness,
In your fall immortal, great.
Oh, who will rouse your children with a cry,
Who will free you from slavery?
Your sons have now become other men.
Not disputing with fate, a hopeless battle
At Thermopylae they once awaited.
Where now is that valour, where is that hero
With whom you will rise from the shadow of the tomb?

Literal translation

Byron. (After the text of A. Maurois, in the translation by M. P. Bogoslovskaya)