Wheat Ears – Selected Poems


And we were young, untried

voices, silent, contemplative,

crisp peaches, fresh summer songs

touch of a rose at dawn,

innocence, royalty effusing

each of us having a universe

in our hand like a marble

and they armed us and took us

to the borders; they bestowed death

unto our scopes with the accuracy

of surgeon and what could we do

with such instruments and with targets

standing at the edge of the plain

laughing and scolding us?

We started shooting against

anything moving with such a strange joy

that even now after all these years

I can’t explain

and having taught us how to kill

they euphemized us

by ultimately calling us heroes

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