Gallipoli - Poem by Herbert Nehrlich
From the treeless mountains he flew
to the world known as bald majesty
when an eagle comes looking for you
you remember Gallipoli.
You will dream of hot metal in flight
and of blood as it flows to the ground
when your ghosts come to visit at night
you will die with a whimsical sound.
Will the pilgrimage make up for breath
all the comrades who hid in the trench
it was you who invited your death
and you added yourself to the stench.
Comments about Gallipoli by Herbert Nehrlich
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye