The withered grave

"And if there the grave and eternal rest await us,
Withered flowers and desires grown silent,
I see above me the radiance of Spring –
Today I live, and today is mine!"

(Glafira Adol'fovna Galina in Жить! будем жить! [Live! We shall live!])
Huy (B)

After the war, leaving only my face into the green

"I knew a simple soldier boy
Who grinned at life in empty joy,
Slept soundly through the lonesome dark,
And whistled early with the lark.

In winter trenches, cowed and glum,
With crumps and lice and lack of rum,
He put a bullet through his brain.
No one spoke of him again.
 *       *       *       *       *
You snug-faced crowds with kindling eye
Who cheer when soldier lads march by,
Sneak home and pray you'll never know
The hell where youth and laughter go."

(S.L. Sassoon in Suicide in the trenches)
Visé (B)

Laying on dried leaves

Laying on dried leaves

"I dug a grave under an oak-tree.
With infinite care, I stamped my spade
Into the heavy grass.
The sod sucked it,
And I drew it out with effort,
Watching the steel run liquid in the moonlight
As it came clear.
I stooped, and dug, and never turned,
For behind me,
On the dried leaves,
My own face lay like a white pebble,
Waiting."

(Amy Lowell in Pictures from the floating world)
Liège (B)

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