"The Eskimo has fifty-two names for snow because it is important to them; there ought to be as many for love."
-Margaret Atwood

Poem of the day on 3/19/09

Two Fusiliers

By Robert Graves



And have we done with War at last?
Well, we’ve been lucky devils both,
And there’s no need of pledge or oath
To bind our lovely friendship fast,
By firmer stuff
Close bound enough.


By wire and wood and stake we’re bound,
By Fricourt and by Festubert,
By whipping rain, by the sun’s glare,
By all the misery and loud sound,
By a Spring day,
By Picard clay.


Show me the two so closely bound
As we, by the red bond of blood,
By friendship, blossoming from mud,
By Death: we faced him, and we found
Beauty in Death,
Read More ...)
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