The line breaks and the guns go under,
The lords and the lackeys ride the plain;
I draw deep breaths of the dawn and thunder,
And the whole of my heart grows young again.
She woke me up at dawn,
her suitcase like a little brown dog at her heels.
I sat up and looked out the window
WHO is it speaks of defeat? —
I tell you a Cause like ours
Is greater than defeat can know;
It is the power of powers!
Across the field of day
In sudden blazon lay
The pallid bar of gold
Borne on the shield of day.
If an audience could be arranged
and also my safe return
this is what I'd tell the Sultan
This is what he'd learn:
O Sultan, my master, if my clothes
are ripped and torn
it is because your dogs with claws
are allowed to tear me.
Victory, be not proud!
Had I not lost, you couldn't have won,
If I were not there, life wouldn't be fun,
Time has made conquest of so many things
That once were mine. Swift-footed, eager youth
That ran to meet the years; bold brigand health,
'Tis the hope of the noble defeated;
The aim of the marksman is vain;
The wish of destruction completed,
The soldier eternally slain.
Over the white ﬁshpond
The wild birds have blown away.
An icy wind drifts from our stars at evening.
Over our graves