Mosaic at Huqoq (Israel)

They call me Alexander, Alexander the Great,

And I have travelled far, very far already,

And hope, the gods being willing, to travel further,

All the way to the ends of the earth, across many seas,

Over mountains that reach the sky, passing deserts

That seem never to end, and then more rivers

Where I hope to conquer the unconquerable tribes

Who are hardly human yet so powerful the heavens

Tremble just to hear of them, yes, I Alexander.

And these, may a humble priest of a humble people

Demand of one so great, are these your armies, your beasts

With long proboscis and ivory tusks? You surely

Cannot hope to lead to the very edge of reality, the place

Where sky meets horizon and falls into never-quenching night.

My holy books and ancient traditions tell of lands

And nations beyond the oceans and mountains, and yet no one

Has ever been so far, not even our ancestors who wrote

The scrolls we study to understand the universe.

They do not call me great conqueror for nothing, priest.

My name resounds throughout the world from west to east,

In every city and on every island where people dwell,

And no one ever doubted my capacity to travel far,

Far beyond their dreams and where their dreams are born.

But let me demand of you, as I have heard the fame you bear,

You people of the Holy Books and guardians of the Law,

Tell me this one thing that bothers me—that when I have seen

The very ends of the earth where it melts into the sky,

Will I be able to return, if not with armies, slaves and wealth,

But with my consciousness intact, to enjoy my victories?

A very heavy question you have put to me, oh great conqueror of men,

And one a humble man such as I myself can only answer with the words

Our God will perhaps provide in the hours of sleep tonight,

For never have we met someone so proud and powerful as you

And yet so respectful of our wisdom that you inquire of me a truth

That may expose me to your wrath.

Do not worry, priest of this holy  land, I have heard enough to value

Such wisdom as you have.  My anger will be restrained, and you

And your people, no matter what, will have my protections, so long

As I may live—and I expect to live for many years to come.

My mind trembles before you, for now we are dependent on your life

For our safety and our life.  Let me say this, then, before the vision

Enters my inner chamber after the sun has fallen into night:

Your name will live forever among us, and our sons, from the greatest

To the lowest, will be called Alexander in your honour, even priests

And generals, as well as teachers, scribes and kings.  Now great

Alexander, leave me to my silent duties in the Temple,

And tomorrow with the breaking of the dawn I will expound

What the Voice from Heaven whispers in my ear.

In the morning, it is said, when the High Priest, Kohan haGadol

Emerged from the Holy of Holies, the armies of Macedonia

Had gone, elephants and camels, horses and asses, all,

Even the young and arrogant Alexander; and though

He never returned to the City of David, generations of the Book

Bore his name in gratitude and this beyond the days

When generals and armies, who had survived the march

To the very ends of the known world, fought among themselves

And turned in anger on the people of Jerusalem

And fouled the sacred precincts of the Temple.

Look at this mosaic found at Huqoq for all the proof you need:

The mighty conqueror and the humble priest face to face.

The rabbi and his congregation who built this synagogue understood.

The archaeologists, however, argue year after year: who is he,

Alexander or Antiochus?  Perhaps a poet knows the truth

Because he lets the figures made of little stones speak for themselves.