Farewell to a name and a number
Recalled again
To darkness and silence and slumber
In blood and pain.
So ceases and turns to the thing
He was born to be
A soldier cheap to the King
And dear to me;
So smothers in blood the burning
And flaming flight
Of valour and truth returning
To dust and night.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem