Written by: Aleh Barysau

A white city here lies –
a trace of centuries gone.
An old man Heraclitus
awoke freely at dawn. 

At the bank of the sea
was a heavenly drop.
In the valley at hills
became ripened its crop.

Great sons of Artemis –
so her wrath to go down –
offered gifts to their miss –
a bleeding girl.

King of all – Alexander
built around a great wall. 
Trajan fountain over there
made water fall.

To the Brothel itself, 
from the Heracles Gate,
marched a Hellene himself 
not afraid of gods` hate.

From far regions away, 
from other lots,
brought St. John a God’s word  
in the temple of gods.

Marble white shining on,
carcass, pieces and bits.  
There is quite Odeon –
its descendants fame is.