Allowed to do their own thing, the Celts are the most intelligent and humorous people I know of!
Still, Steve, it has to come sooner or later, what with millions of them so brain washed they cannot see evil at all and call that G_dly. we must endure their muderous acts and lay down to convert to their creed?
I think not.
Besides one good year cleaning house would rid us of the falsehood that fuels the funace of hell, ie WW3.
It seems odd that Wilfred Owen isn’t represented in the book, but then it isn’t a compilation of the obvious by any means. Here’s one poem that is included, written by Henry Reed in 1946.
I. NAMING OF PARTS
To-day we have naming of parts. Yesterday,
We had daily cleaning. And to-morrow morning,
We shall have what to do after firing. But to-day,
To-day we have naming of parts. Japonica
Glistens like coral in all of the neighboring gardens,
And to-day we have naming of parts.
This is the lower sling swivel. And this
Is the upper sling swivel, whose use you will see,
When you are given your slings. And this is the piling swivel,
Which in your case you have not got. The branches
Hold in the gardens their silent, eloquent gestures,
Which in our case we have not got.
This is the safety-catch, which is always released
With an easy flick of the thumb. And please do not let me
See anyone using his finger. You can do it quite easy
If you have any strength in your thumb. The blossoms
Are fragile and motionless, never letting anyone see
Any of them using their finger.
And this you can see is the bolt. The purpose of this
Is to open the breech, as you see. We can slide it
Rapidly backwards and forwards: we call this
Easing the spring. And rapidly backwards and forwards
The early bees are assaulting and fumbling the flowers
They call it easing the Spring.
They call it easing the Spring: it is perfectly easy
If you have any strength in your thumb: like the bolt,
And the breech, and the cocking-piece, and the point of balance,
Which in our case we have not got; and the almond-blossom
Silent in all of the gardens and the bees going backwards and forwards,
For to-day we have naming of parts.
Steve
Dulce et Decorum est Is my all time favorite WWI poem. I also like the first
two stanzas of McCrae’s “In Flander’s Fields”
In Flander’s fields where poppies grow,
Between the crosses row on row.
That mark our place
and in the sky the larks,
still bravely singing fly.
We are the dead short days ago,
we lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
loved and were loved and now we lie
in Flander’s fields.
I never cared for the last two. It starts to sound like propaganda.
That reminds me, how do you pronounce “Ypres?”
“Ee-pruh” will get you by. My grandad’s lot (he fought there) called it “Wipers!”
Steve
The song-cycle “Anthems in Eden” by Shirley and Dolly Collins ends with “The Whitsun Dance” which finishes with these three verses:
The fields they stand empty, the hedges grow free
No young men to tend them nor pastures to see
They have gone where the forests of oak trees before
Have gone to be wasted in battle
Down from the green farmlands and from their loved ones
Marched husbands and brothers, fathers and sons
There’s a fine roll of honour where the maypole once stood
And the ladies go dancing at Whitsun
There’s a straight row of houses in these latter days
All covering the downs where the sheep used to graze
There’s a field of red poppies, a gift to be seen
But the ladies remember at Whitsun
And the ladies go dancing at Whitsun
Steve
I see on the news tonight that the ante is being upped once more over Iran’s penchant for nuclear power. It’s going to happen all over again isn’t it - unless the good people speak out.
Steve
I’ve read but 10 or so pages of this book and I have to say…so far it really does speak the truth to me. Especially poingnant is the way in the first few pages that the authors hit so well on the way we disguise the real-world nastiness and hatred of warfare by discussing it with common clean, sanitary, rather abstract words such as “The use of the sword by the state” to mean “Government-sanctioned dropping of bombs on entire foreign cities with the express intent to kill large numbers of people.”
And this also speaks very well to the same sentiment:
They held up a stone.
I said, “Stone.”
Smiling, they said, “Stone.”
They showed me a tree.
I said, “Tree.”
Smiling, they said, “Tree.”
They shed a man’s blood.
I said, “Blood.”
Smiling, they said, “Paint.”
They shed a man’s blood.
I said, “Blood.”
Smiling, they said, “Paint.”
(Dannie Asbe, adapted from the Hebrew of Amir Gilboa, 1982.)
That gets right through to me too. I hope you find the whole book a good read (you can’t exactly say “I hope you enjoy it” in this case).
Steve