Makhaira

Makhaira (Greek: μάχαιρα (mákhaira, plural mákhairai), also transliterated machaira or machaera; a Greek word, related to μάχη (mákhē) "a battle", μάχεσθαι (mákhesthai) "to fight", from PIE *magh-) is a term used by modern scholars to describe a type of ancient bladed weapon, generally a large knife or sword with a single cutting edge.

Characteristics

Homer mentions the makhaira, but as a domestic knife of no great size. In period texts, μάχαιρα has a variety of meanings, and can refer to virtually any knife or sword, even a surgeon's scalpel, but in a martial context it frequently refers to a type of one-edged sword; a sword designed primarily to cut rather than thrust. Modern scholars distinguish the makhaira from the kopis (an ancient term of similar meaning) based on whether the blade is forward curved (kopis), or not (makhaira).

These weapons were of various sizes and shapes, being regional, and not exclusively Greek. Greek art shows the Lacedaemonian and Persian armies employing swords with a single cutting edge, but Persian records show that their primary infantry sword was two edged and straight, similar to the Greek xiphos (cf. acinaces). Greek vase painting begins to show makhairai very infrequently from c. 530 BC, though their depiction is increasingly common on 'red figure' ceramics from c. 5I0 B.C. onwards. The makhaira depicted in artworks was single-edged, having an expanded convex portion to the cutting part of the blade towards its tip. This concentrated weight, and therefore momentum, to this part of the blade allowing a forceful cut. Despite their relatively frequent depictions in art, archaeological remains of this type of sword are rare.

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Maker

by: Hollies

(Clarke / Hicks / Nash)
Days of yellow saffron.
Nights with purple skies.
Melting in the sunbeams
from my maker's eyes.
Mountain-colored lilac
in the distant haze.
I would like to lie here,
timing all my days
Move past my window,
sunshine is shimmering
jack-o-lanterns glimmering,
giant moths are flickering around.
See, the moon is hiding
underneath the sea.
Pretty soon he'll venture
to take a look at me.
So I humbly stand here
beneath his golden glow.
Doesn't he remind me
of somebody I know?
I must be leaving,
back to reality.
Don't you just pity me?
I could so easily stay here.




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