A poem by Thomas Thornburg from Ancient Letters

Who has not read of mankilling Achilles?
Him of the mighty thews, myrmidon mannered one
In whose red such ichor ran the ships where he dallied
Sail in our sayings, the heads that he hammered;
As hilted as language is, the bloodsayings backing us,
Screwing our courage, it is his name tracks us.
Who has not read of mankilling? Achilles
Mandragon, death in life wedded with Hector in
Blood, blood: the far ringing where he sallied,
Blood that Cassandra saw, legends that vex us.
Who has not read of man? Killing Achilles,
Achaean bully-boy, his days reckoned,
Greaved of Hephaestus, god of dim alley-ways,
Of war machines, of our fecklessnesses.
It is Dolon my heart fills for,
Promised of horses and hero’s entrapments,
Human, frailer than Achilles mankiller-
Doubtless there were many so cunningly capped.
Look: in his eye the terror chills us,
That we have sonned Dolons, given them breath
To drown in red ditches before mythy Achilles.
What myth serves Dolon in death?
Look, few will sing you red war gladly,
Or harp a heartstring in praise of murder:
This song is of Dolon who died badly
And was lied to and killed and will not go unworded,
And is ancienter than any. Still,
Who has not read of mankilling Achilles?

Dolon. Detail from an Attic red-figure lekythos, ca. 460 BC. Found in Italy