Elegy (For G. H. T., killed in action,19th August 1918)
Just a name carved in stone,
A name amongst thousands on this memorial,
No known grave, no place for your soul to rest,
No headstone for your Families' flowers.
This is your price for fighting for freedom,
One name among the endless names on stone,
All answering the call for king and country,
Lost to this world in the madness of war.
A family mourning their lost son,
Like so many families of this lost generation,
What could you have achieved if you returned,
Maybe a family of your own with a wife and children.
Forever a hero to your younger brother,
The letters and buttons sent back from the front,
Treasured as his only link left to you,
The medals and death plaque no reminder of your spirit.
So what of the war to end all wars,
So did your and your comrade's deaths change anything,
For king and country and emperor and empire,
A hundred years on we're still waging war.
Still killing unable to see our humanity.
So this is one elegy to one fallen hero,
How many more must be written,
How long before we end all wars and find peace,
How many more graves and memorials?
By Christopher Tye
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem