Ode To Victor Hugo-95 'the Miserable' battlefield Poem by Freeyad Ibrahim

By Freeyad Ibrahim

The battlefield swallows up combatants
as water drains away more or less rapidly
the nature of the soil.

The line writhes and wavers like a thread blowing in the wind
There is no logic in the flow of the blood;
The army fronts are like waves on the seashore
Advancing and retreating regiments.

Battalions are like puffs of smoke
At a given place there was a given object
Look for it again, it is gone.

To depict a battle, we need a painter
with chaos in his brush;
He who was accurate at noon
is a liar by 3 o'clock.

Geometry is misleading
Only the tempest is true!

FRYAD HUGO