And once again, brothers,
I fought
Against my silent soul
Myself
It was a sober war I sought
I found
My holy mothers
How absurd!
Oh how unsound
To be a man of pelf
Of more than all
And less than naught…
And then,
You erred
No bothers!
There you said
In foul pretense,
(And once again
I never stirred)
That I was ever bound
To recommence…
Just because I fled
The killing roll
The craven craven word
The never men!
Having spared a thought
And turned a head
To bless the caterwaul
And praise the august ground
That suckèd down your sense
And bore you dead!
Adelaide
February 25th 1991
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem