“Rasterick R made a brisk 35”
on a damp shard of paper,
found in a drawer -
with the date on the top
(12th of September 1904)
So who were you then, Mr Rasterick R?
And did you enjoy a good tea between innings,
On the Green by the sea?
And going to war
To die or survive
Did you ever remember that brisk 35?
Rasterick R: this is all that is left
But I throw you away
With the rubbish
In a box that I marked ‘Yesterday’.
While outside my window I hear a dove call
And, down in the valley, one answers back
From a tree by the side of the Cricket Club hall.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem