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Poems
Attack
In Flanders fields
The Hero
Out West
The letter
The dreamers
Song-books of the war
The one-legged man
Break of day
The next war
Base details
The General
The chances
Quo vadis Anzac?
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The Next War

The long war had ended.
Its miseries had grown faded.
Deaf men became difficult to talk to,
Heroes became bores.
Those alchemists
Who had converted blood into gold
Had grown elderly.
But they held a meeting,
Saying,
'We think perhaps we ought
To put up tombs
Or erect altars
To those brave lads
Who were so willingly burnt,
Or blinded,
Or maimed,
Who lost all likeness to a living thing,
Or were blown to bleeding patches of flesh
For our sakes.
It would look well.
Or we might even educate the children.'

But the richest of these wizards
Coughed gently;
And he said:
 

 
Play audio


Beethoven Sonata No.14 in C#-,
Op.27 No.2 'Moonlight
Midi H.Bunji. Japan
By permission

 

'I have always been to the front
-In private enterprise-,
I yield in public spirit
To no man.
I think yours is a very good idea
-A capital idea-
And not too costly . . .
But it seems to me
That the cause for which we fought
Is again endangered.
What more fitting memorial for the fallen
Than that their children
Should fall for the same cause?'

Rushing eagerly into the street,
The kindly old gentlemen cried
To the young:
'Will you sacrifice
Through your lethargy
What your fathers died to gain ?
The world must be made safe for the young!'
And the children
Went. . . .


Osbert Sitwell.