I suggest that you choose March of the Spirit and The Sacred Way. And I hope that you will take both of the poems and not one only, because together they do represent somewhat the broad scope of the writing of Angelos Sikelianos as no one of the single poems could do.
As I threw the last log on the hearth, (log of my life locked in time), on the hearth of your new Liberty, Greece, my soul suddenly blazed as if space were all copper, or as if I had the sacred cell of Heraclitus around me, where for years, for eternity, he forged out his thoughts and hung them as weapons in the temple of Ephesus . . .
Gigantic thoughts, like fiery clouds or red islands in a fabulous sunset, flamed in my mind, for all at once my whole life was burning in the care of your Liberty, Greece! That is why I did not say: This is the light of my funeral pyre . . . I cried, I am the torch of your history! And there, let my desolate carcass burn like a torch, Empyrean vine-shoot, with this torch