The Emperor’s Guards
A mighty army stands
beneath pounds of rust-coloured dust
at the foot of the
majestic Mount Li.
Two thousand years without battle,
lying dormant in their stoic stillness,
steadying their nerves for
the day the battle cry is heard.
Chariots and horses,
arrows and bows.
8,000 men, willing to fight
to save the soul of their beloved
baked as funerary art,
awoke from their years of slumber
to the sound of Yang Zhifa’s drill.
The world watched in awe,
as this vast necropolis of terracotta
its ancient treasures, and Qin’s soul—
so long protected—
tasted freedom and finally took flight.