War and Love/Epilogue

by Richard Aldington

For works with similar titles, see Epilogue.

 

EPILOGUE

Back we go to the shell-tossed land,
To the whine of the shells that tears one's nerves
And the crash that's only not near enough;
Back we go to struggle with mud,
To stumble and slip on the greasy boards,
Back we go to the stink of the dead,
Back we go to the sleepless days
And the unwashed weeks and the mouldy months,
Back we go to the thirst and the dust,
Back we go to the grim despair
That holds a man by the heart in France.

We'll go through it all, the fear and pain,
The breaking up of body and soul,
Take our chance of death after all,
Of face or limb or shoulder smashed,
Go through hell again, face it out,
For her, for her love, for her kiss again.

Sneer or snarl, drivel or boast—
What does it matter to us who go
Where they who send us dare not go?
All one to us are the rights and wrongs,
The nations' squabbles, the nations' lies;
Not one land more than another land
Do we love, lovers of love not land—
So it's up the line and hell and pain
For her, for her love, for her kiss again.