War and Love/In the Trenches
For works with similar titles, see In the Trenches.
IN THE TRENCHES
INot that we are weary,Not that we fear,Not that we are lonelyThough never alone—Not these, not these destroy us;But that each rush and crashOf mortar and shell,Each cruel bitter shriek of bulletThat tears the wind like a blade,Each wound on the breast of earth,Of Demeter, our Mother,Wounds us also,Severs and rends the fine fabricOf the wings of our frail souls,Scatters into dust the bright wingsOf Psyche!
IIImpotent,How impotent is all this clamour,This destruction and contest …
Night after night comes the moonHaughty and perfect;Night after night the Pleiades singAnd Orion swings his belt across the sky.Night after night the frostCrumbles the hard earth.
Soon the spring will drop flowersAnd patient, creeping stalk and leafAlong these barren linesWhere the huge rats scuttleAnd the hawk shrieks to the carrion crow.
Can you stay them with your noise?Then kill winter with your cannon,Hold back Orion with your bayonetsAnd crush the spring leaf with your armies!