Defeat has its lessons as well as victory.
quote by Pat Buchanan
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In War-Time A Psalm Of The Heart
Scourge us as Thou wilt, oh Lord God of Hosts;
Deal with us, Lord, according to our transgressions;
But give us Victory!
Victory, victory! oh, Lord, victory!
Oh, Lord, victory! Lord, Lord, victory!
Lift Thy wrath up from the day of battle,
And set it on the weight of other days!
Draw Thy strength from us for many days,
So Thou be with us on the day of battle,
And give us victory.
Victory, victory! oh, Lord, victory!
Oh, Lord, victory! Lord, Lord, victory!
Let the strong arm be as the flag o' the river,
The withered flag that flappeth o'er the river,
When all the flood is dried out of the river;
Let the brave heart be as a drunkard's bosom,
When the thick fume is frozen in the bosom,
And the bare sin lies shivering in the bosom;
Let the bold eye be sick and crazed with midnight,
Strained and cracked with aching days of midnight,
Swarmed and foul with creeping shapes of midnight;
So Thou return upon the day of battle,
So we be strong upon the day of battle,
Be drunk with Thee upon the day of battle,
So Thou shine o'er us in the day of battle,
Shine in the faces of our enemies,
Hot in the faces of our enemies,
Hot o'er the battle and the victory.
Victory, victory! oh, Lord, victory!
Oh, Lord, victory! Lord, Lord, victory!
Shame us not, oh Lord, before the wicked!
In our hidden places let Thy wrath
Afflict us; in the secret of our sin
Convince us; be the bones within our flesh
Marrowed with fire, and all the strings of life
Strung to the twang of torture; let the stench
Of our own strength torment us; the desire
Of our own glorious image in the sea
[...] Read more
poem by Sydney Thompson Dobell
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Defeating...That Beast
You've begun...to defeat,
That beast that's come to be.
You've become...to defeat it!
You've begun...to defeat it!
You've begun...to defeat,
That beast that's come to be.
You've become...to defeat it!
You've begun...to defeat it!
Think about the distance you've come,
Defeating...the beast.
Think about your decision not to run,
Away...from the beast.
Think about those knees on the ground,
Weeping for the beast.
Think about the dirt you ate,
Fed...by the beast.
Think about celebrating...
Those days ahead awaiting!
You've begun...to defeat,
That beast that's come to be.
You've become...to defeat it!
You've begun...to defeat it!
You've begun...to defeat,
That beast that's come to be.
You've become...to defeat it!
You've begun...to defeat it!
No longer the martyr,
Defeating...that beast.
Get up...and strut about.
You've defeated...that beast.
Let those words come out of your mouth,
'I've defeated...that beast! '
Let the people see and believe it,
You've defeated...that beast.
Whoop...and hollar about,
'I've defeated...and done feeding it!
That beast is outta my house.'
You've begun...to defeat,
That beast that's come to be.
You've become...to defeat it!
You've begun...to defeat it!
You've begun...to defeat,
That beast that's come to be.
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Tom Zart's 52 Best Of The Rest America At War Poems
SONS AND DAUGHTERS OF WORLD WAR III
The White House
Washington
Tom Zart's Poems
March 16,2007
Ms. Lillian Cauldwell
President and Chief Executive Officer
Passionate Internet Voices Radio
Ann Arbor Michigan
Dear Lillian:
Number 41 passed on the CDs from Tom Zart. Thank you for thinking of me. I am thankful for your efforts to honor our brave military personnel and their families. America owes these courageous men and women a debt of gratitude, and I am honored to be the commander in chief of the greatest force for freedom in the history of the world.
Best Wishes.
Sincerely,
George W. Bush
SONS AND DAUGHTERS OF WORLD WAR III
Our sons and daughters serve in harm's way
To defend our way of life.
Some are students, some grandparents
Many a husband or wife.
They face great odds without complaint
Gambling life and limb for little pay.
So far away from all they love
Fight our soldiers for whom we pray.
The plotters and planners of America's doom
Pledge to murder and maim all they can.
From early childhood they are taught
To kill is to become a man.
They exploit their young as weapons of choice
Teaching in heaven, virgins will await.
Destroying lives along with their own
To learn of their falsehoods too late.
The fearful cry we must submit
And find a way to soothe them.
Where defenders worry if we stand down
The future for America is grim.
[...] Read more
poem by Tom Zart
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Lessons Of Love
(s. garrett/g. ballard)
See the children play
Listen to the things they say
One-on-one to one another
Theyre just having fun
Finding out it can be done
They dont seperate by cover
Ooh, young hearts
Facing to feel it so naturally
And the flower grows from the seed and
Chorus:
Practice makes perfect and we tryin enough
And were bound to be learning
The lessons of love
Coz were never too old and never too young
To be teaching each other the lessons of love
Got some work to do
Theres so much we can improve
Piece by piece we come together, yeah
In the neighborhood
I know we can make it good
But weve got to make it better
Oh woh oh, inside each of us has a romelody
But weve got to find our harmony
Practice makes perfect and we tryin rnough
And weve got to remember
The lessons of love
Coz were never too old and never too young
To be teaching each other the lessons of love
Bridge:
Imagine how this world could be
If all of us would live in peace
Nothing good comes easily
Together starts with you and me
Yeah, oh yeah, aha
Lessons of love
Practice makes perfect and we tryin enough
And were bound to be learning
The lessons of love
Coz were never too old and never too young
To be teaching each other
Practice makes perfect and we tryin enough
And weve got to remember
The lessons of love
Coz were never too old and never too young
To be teaching each other the lessons of love
Practice makes perfect, try it enough
(oh, never too young, aha)
And weve got to be learning
The lessons of love (lessons of love)
[...] Read more
song performed by Lea Salonga
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Pharsalia - Book VII: The Battle
Ne'er to the summons of the Eternal laws
More slowly Titan rose, nor drave his steeds,
Forced by the sky revolving, up the heaven,
With gloomier presage; wishing to endure
The pangs of ravished light, and dark eclipse;
And drew the mists up, not to feed his flames,
But lest his light upon Thessalian earth
Might fall undimmed.
Pompeius on that morn,
To him the latest day of happy life,
In troubled sleep an empty dream conceived.
For in the watches of the night he heard
Innumerable Romans shout his name
Within his theatre; the benches vied
To raise his fame and place him with the gods;
As once in youth, when victory was won
O'er conquered tribes where swift Iberus flows,
And where Sertorius' armies fought and fled,
The west subdued, with no less majesty
Than if the purple toga graced the car,
He sat triumphant in his pure white gown
A Roman knight, and heard the Senate's cheer.
Perhaps, as ills drew near, his anxious soul,
Shunning the future wooed the happy past;
Or, as is wont, prophetic slumber showed
That which was not to be, by doubtful forms
Misleading; or as envious Fate forbade
Return to Italy, this glimpse of Rome
Kind Fortune gave. Break not his latest sleep,
Ye sentinels; let not the trumpet call
Strike on his ear: for on the morrow's night
Shapes of the battle lost, of death and war
Shall crowd his rest with terrors. Whence shalt thou
The poor man's happiness of sleep regain?
Happy if even in dreams thy Rome could see
Once more her captain! Would the gods had given
To thee and to thy country one day yet
To reap the latest fruit of such a love:
Though sure of fate to come! Thou marchest on
As though by heaven ordained in Rome to die;
She, conscious ever of her prayers for thee
Heard by the gods, deemed not the fates decreed
Such evil destiny, that she should lose
The last sad solace of her Magnus' tomb.
Then young and old had blent their tears for thee,
And child unbidden; women torn their hair
And struck their bosoms as for Brutus dead.
But now no public woe shall greet thy death
As erst thy praise was heard: but men shall grieve
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poem by Marcus Annaeus Lucanus
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Bryan, Bryan, Bryan, Bryan
I
In a nation of one hundred fine, mob-hearted, lynching, relenting, repenting millions,
There are plenty of sweeping, swinging, stinging, gorgeous things to shout about,
And knock your old blue devils out.
I brag and chant of Bryan, Bryan, Bryan, Bryan,
Candidate for president who sketched a silver Zion,
The one American Poet who could sing outdoors,
He brought in tides of wonder, of unprecedented splendor,
Wild roses from the plains, that made hearts tender,
All the funny circus silks
Of politics unfurled,
Bartlett pears of romance that were honey at the cores,
And torchlights down the street, to the end of the world.
There were truths eternal in the gap and tittle-tattle.
There were real heads broken in the fustian and the rattle.
There were real lines drawn:
Not the silver and the gold,
But Nebraska's cry went eastward against the dour and old,
The mean and cold.
It was eighteen ninety-six, and I was just sixteen
And Altgeld ruled in Springfield, Illinois,
When there came from the sunset Nebraska's shout of joy:
In a coat like a deacon, in a black Stetson hat
He scourged the elephant plutocrats
With barbed wire from the Platte.
The scales dropped from their mighty eyes.
They saw that summer's noon
A tribe of wonders coming
To a marching tune.
Oh the longhorns from Texas,
The jay hawks from Kansas,
The plop-eyed bungaroo and giant giassicus,
The varmint, chipmunk, bugaboo,
The horn-toad, prairie-dog and ballyhoo,
From all the newborn states arow,
Bidding the eagles of the west fly on,
Bidding the eagles of the west fly on.
The fawn, prodactyl, and thing-a-ma-jig,
The rackaboor, the hellangone,
The whangdoodle, batfowl and pig,
The coyote, wild-cat and grizzly in a glow,
In a miracle of health and speed, the whole breed abreast,
The leaped the Mississippi, blue border of the West,
From the Gulf to Canada, two thousand miles long:-
Against the towns of Tubal Cain,
[...] Read more
poem by Vachel Lindsay
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Lesson In Love
I'm not proud, I was wrong
and the truth is hard to take
I felt sure we had enough
but our love went overboard
lifeboat lies lost at sea
I've been trying to reach your shore
waves of doubt keep drowning me
All the dreams that we were building
we never fulfilled them
could be better, should be better
for lessons in love
For restless eyes egos burn
and the mold is hard to break
now we've waded in too deep
and love is overboard
heavy hearts token words
all the hopes I ever had
fade like footprints in the sand
All the homes that we were building
we never lived in
could be better, should be better
lessons in love
if we lose the time before us
the future will ignore us
we should use it, we could use it, yeah
Lessons in love
Lost without love...
Lessons in love
When will you ever learn
Lessons in love
When there's nowhere left to turn
Lessons in love
Don't let your spirit burn
Lessons in love
I'll wait 'till you return
All the dreams that we were building
we never fulfilled them
could be better, should be better
for lessons in love
All the homes that we were building
we never lived in
could be better, should be better
lessons in love
if we lose the time before us
the future will ignore us
we should use it, we could use it, yeah
lessons in love
song performed by Level 42
Added by Lucian Velea
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Pharsalia - Book VIII: Death Of Pompeius
Now through Alcides' pass and Tempe's groves
Pompeius, aiming for Haemonian glens
And forests lone, urged on his wearied steed
Scarce heeding now the spur; by devious tracks
Seeking to veil the footsteps of his flight:
The rustle of the foliage, and the noise
Of following comrades filled his anxious soul
With terrors, as he fancied at his side
Some ambushed enemy. Fallen from the height
Of former fortunes, still the chieftain knew
His life not worthless; mindful of the fates:
And 'gainst the price he set on Caesar's head,
He measures Caesar's value of his own.
Yet, as he rode, the features of the chief
Made known his ruin. Many as they sought
The camp Pharsalian, ere yet was spread
News of the battle, met the chief, amazed,
And wondered at the whirl of human things:
Nor held disaster sure, though Magnus' self
Told of his ruin. Every witness seen
Brought peril on his flight: 'twere better far
Safe in a name obscure, through all the world
To wander; but his ancient fame forbad.
Too long had great Pompeius from the height
Of human greatness, envied of mankind,
Looked on all others; nor for him henceforth
Could life be lowly. The honours of his youth
Too early thrust upon him, and the deeds
Which brought him triumph in the Sullan days,
His conquering navy and the Pontic war,
Made heavier now the burden of defeat,
And crushed his pondering soul. So length of days
Drags down the haughty spirit, and life prolonged
When power has perished. Fortune's latest hour,
Be the last hour of life! Nor let the wretch
Live on disgraced by memories of fame!
But for the boon of death, who'd dare the sea
Of prosperous chance?
Upon the ocean marge
By red Peneus blushing from the fray,
Borne in a sloop, to lightest wind and wave
Scarce equal, he, whose countless oars yet smote
Upon Coreyra's isle and Leucas point,
Lord of Cilicia and Liburnian lands,
Crept trembling to the sea. He bids them steer
For the sequestered shores of Lesbos isle;
For there wert thou, sharer of all his griefs,
[...] Read more
poem by Marcus Annaeus Lucanus
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Simple Lessons
Simple, simple lessons, simple...
Sound to be where, make you want to scream.
Always left without, saying hello.
Ive seen chains the bear less, snap and fall long before you let go.
Times run over your sink onto my floor,
Its okay, weve cleaned them many times before.
Simple lessons are, simple lessons are, simple lessons are, simple lessons are, simple...
Sounds might be where, yeah I want to cry
Always left before, I said hello.
Hes had days where shades of brilliance, never granted him space.
Green shades of painful rains, its okay, theyll wash away now
Simple lessons are, simple lessons are, simple lessons are, simple lessons are, simple...
Always taught you how, drain yourself empty.
Always taught you how, drain yourself empty.
Were all scarred up from ages of childish games.
Yet Ive never seen your head up higher.
It feels real this time, I see you happy again.
Reel it in for awhile, oh enough to take my
Aint enough to take my aint enough to take my, aint enough to take my, aint enough to take my place
Sounds might be where, you want to scream.
Always left without, saying hello.
Ive seen chains that bear less, snap and fall long before you,
Long before you let go
song performed by Candlebox
Added by Lucian Velea
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Your grandchild has tougher lessons to teach
When your child was born
You might have learned certain lessons
As he or she was growing
The child would have been
Teaching lessons
Which you were not learning
From anywhere else
You would have found the lessons
Tough and difficult to absorb
As basics and fundamentals
Language used by the faculty
Methodology of teaching
Were quite different
Most of the time unstructured
Unmindful of your moods
The teacher would have kept you
Loaded with lessons difficult to decipher
The classes were far unique and
Very specially different
From any of the formal institution
Which were preparing you
For making a life
The lessons here aimed at
Making you live fully alive and aware of
Absolute realities
You would agree
Learning these never made you tired
And you were enthusiastically looking for
New lessons to come up
By the time
Your child has grown up
And stopped teaching you any further
Your grand child arrives
Now the lessons turn tougher still
Despite all the experiences in life and living
Your learning is quite difficult now
The teacher is in a great hurry
And often keeps changing
The course of lessons
You find new reasons
For things happening around
And you see yourself
In new enthusiasm
Which you feel will help you live
Longer still
With enough energy, strength and skill
In spite of the fact that
Your grandchild has tougher lessons to teach
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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Learn Life's Lessons
Some are afraid to hear a 'No'...
And,
Choose to walk away...
With their fears on display.
Backs turned away...
And tears from their eyes exposed.
But if one fears to hear a 'No'...
And 'Go',
What's the use of learning lessons?
A yes will come to those who learn their lessons.
And a 'no' one can let go...
When a life lived is in session.
A yes will come to those who learn their lessons.
And a 'no' one can let go,
When life's in session.
Some are afraid to hear a 'No'...
And,
Choose to walk away...
With their fears on display.
Backs turned away...
And tears from their eyes exposed.
But if one fears to hear a 'No'...
And 'Go',
What's the use of learning lessons?
A yes will come to those who learn their lessons.
And a 'no' one can let go...
When a life lived is in session.
A yes will come to those who learn their lessons.
And a 'no' one can let go,
When life's in session.
Don't be afraid,
Be brave...
Learn a lesson.
Don't be afraid,
Be brave...
And learn life's lessons.
A yes will come to those who learn their lessons.
And a 'no' one can let go,
When life's in session.
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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To Hide In Disguise Those Weak and Fragile
Although their calculated misdeeds succeeded,
They appear to now fear...
The repercussions of their activities.
And looking weak and fragile...
Without the armor worn to adorn their fetes.
Guaranteed to show in battle defeat,
That enemy to knock off their feet.
And from them to squeeze a victory sweet.
To hide in disguise those weak and fragile.
Although their calculated misdeeds succeeded,
They appear to now fear...
The repercussions of their activities.
And looking weak and fragile...
Without the armor worn to adorn their fetes.
Guaranteed to show in battle defeat,
That enemy to knock off their feet.
And from them to squeeze a victory sweet.
To hide in disguise those weak and fragile.
And from them to squeeze a victory sweet.
To hide in disguise those weak and fragile.
And from them to squeeze a victory sweet.
To hide in disguise those weak and fragile.
And from them to squeeze a victory sweet.
To hide in disguise those weak and fragile.
To hide in disguise those weak and fragile.
To hide in disguise those weak and fragile.
And from them to squeeze a victory sweet.
To hide in disguise those weak and fragile.
And from them to squeeze a victory sweet.
To hide in disguise those weak and fragile.
To hide in disguise those weak and fragile.
To hide in disguise those weak and fragile.
And from them to squeeze a victory sweet.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Real Victory
The Real Victory
Victory and defeat in war,
Are the childish justifications.
Colour not your hands,
With the precious substance of Man.
Whether you nourish your mind,
With the elating thought of victory,
Or loathe with a despising thought of defeat,
You kill fathers, brothers and sons,
You kill mothers, sisters and daughters,
Even the infants sleeping in cradles,
You kill them with their innocent dreams,
They hardly know the self-made conflicts,
Flourishing, booming in the world.
Discard devices that you carry in hands,
And think awhile
Whether you kill or you are killed,
You fight against humanity,
You fight against the divine laws,
You fight against the Kingdom of God.
Apply your strength if indispensable,
Lance eyes of the Shark of Ignorance,
Stifle; choke the Demons of Illness,
Wrench neck of the Ghost of Hunger,
Break teeth of the Vampire of Poverty,
By connecting the hearts of humanity,
With the bonds of trust, faith and love.
For the sake of oil and reserves,
Make not the world a mess.
If you intend to defeat the rivals,
Defeat them in the race of good deeds,
Yes, defeat them in the race of good deeds,
You know not the real victory you may get,
But without bloodshed and with out making,
The world a storehouse of weapons.
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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How We Learned Our Lessons
Through the living of their lives...
That's how we learned our lessons.
Through the observation of their sacrifices...
That's how we learned our lessons.
And we understood each one of them.
With our minds, eyes and ears opened.
Through the living of their lives...
That's how we learned our lessons.
Through the acceptance and loving ourselves.
That's how we learned our lessons.
Through the giving of respect,
We ourselves sometimes did not get!
That's how we learned our lessons.
And even though our steps made forward...
Were made to believe by others as limited.
And sometimes we wept and knew this was negative.
It was through the acceptance of who we were,
And loving ourselves.
That's how we learned our lessons.
And the parents we loved and had,
Did not brag about their college degrees!
Or 'things' with them we could buy to achieve...
To succeed in the repossessing of our minds,
Some permit an entry for this to be done!
They were with us all the time,
Telling us we could accomplish anything!
And could prove that too to ourselves and anyone.
'Whatever' it was we chose in our lives to do.
And working hard we did...
To pursue.
Through the living of their lives...
That's how we learned our lessons.
Through the observation of their sacrifices...
That's how we learned our lessons.
Dedicated to:
Andrea ('Mimmie') , Tammy and Lisa
My sisters.
'Love you for your 'gifts' given...
Edna Pearl Roberts Prudhomme Pertillar
And Lawrence Pertillar, Sr.'
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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My American Flag
Flag of the brave
Victory's only passage
With the Azure night
The dash of the fire ablaze
The stripe of pearly snow
Smybol of a victory
America's Victory
Soldiers true and brave
Trudging in the winter snow
Through the dark, hidden passage
The single, small fire ablaze
For I am of the dark night
Yet in my night:
I cry for victory,
I set my enemies ablaze,
For I am of the Brave
Within the hidden passage
The wind, the rain, the snow
Of the Sea, of the snow
Or hiding in the dark, cool night
Within every passage
In glorious victory
The symbol of the strong and brave
My fire within is ablaze
A Torch ablaze
The flash of falling snow
The strong and brave
In the night
Fighting for victory
leaving the passage
Victory has found a passage
The town is ablaze
Today is the victory
In the winter snow
The battle won this night
The shed blood of the brave
With the brave, in the passage
In the night, of the fire
Trudging in the snow, I won the victory
poem by Maria Robbins
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The Battle For The Eternal Destiny Of Mankind
I - The plan was agreed
Before the moments of time had begun
at the great council of the Triune One.
A plan was devised for the salvation of man
and was agreed upon before all life began.
A mighty battle on earth was going to take place
one to decide the destiny of the human race.
There was no hope, no place for man to flee
the wages of sin is death, was Gods decree.
II - God became a man
Then 'Here I am, ' You said, 'Send me.'
Willing, You were to hang upon the tree.
Willing to be contracted to a human span.
Willing to enter into the world of man.
Such condescension and such grace
God entered upon earth this human race.
Taking on human flesh He then became
a Babe of man to bear our sinful shame.
It was such an awesome and incredible plan
to condense Yourself and become a man.
Thus the Immortal, Invisible, God Only Wise
took on our mortality to pay sins price.
III - The sacrifice was made
Then that awful day came in God's great plan
when You were taken aside by sinful man.
Made to climb the steep hill to Calvary's tree.
There You were to die for sin to set us free.
This world could not comprehend such love.
It was the love of God from heaven above.,
So we took You to that place of hate and pain.
There nailed You to a cross and had You slain.
Upon Golgotha's hill the battle took place
the fight for the future of the human race.
In penalty for our sin Your body was impaled
as upon the cross the Son of God was nailed.
A battle had to be fought and a victory won
by the Lord Jesus Christ, God's Only Son.
[...] Read more
poem by Royston
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The Lessons of Love
The wonderous world of art,
The wonderous world of love,
The womderous world of peace,
This is the pen of a humble writer;
The wonderous world of poetry,
The wonderous world of passion,
The wonderous world of romance,
This is the mind of a humble poet;
Of the long pedigree of toil with hopes and dreams,
I now see the light of my village.
Of that unknown tongue and mind,
Let me now repay the lessons of love;
Of the shades of the night falling like,
An artist painting wih his pen;
The nobility of my labour will surely move me on.
On the poet's sculptured face,
The long pedigree of toil;
I now see the lights of my village so,
Let me repay the lessons of love so far learnt.
Of one whose distant footsteps the echo replays,
This day is keen and very strong to me;
Like a look of joy and the thrill of pride.
Once in an ancient city,
Over the laws of the land of peace;
Like an old man's speech to us all when,
We all have the lessons of love to share.
The soft sea air,
Just beyond the billow's reach;
Of a love command that leaves me with many questions.
Build me straight wherever i am,
With your goldfingers like a teacher;
Life always with the lessons of love.
Like a ghost,
I am strong as a youth;
The strain and the stress of life teaches me.
Build me straight wherever ia m like,
A thought in everybody's mind;
For, pleasant is the voice that calls me to dinner.
Like a ghost standing beside her lover's side,
I am still learning the lessons of love;
In it's pleasure and in it's griefs,
Like a bridegroom upon the bosom of the sea.
Love lessons,
Many will still fall behind;
Love lessons,
Of a lovely laughter like water;
[...] Read more
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Pharsalia - Book IV: Caesar In Spain. War In The Adriatic Sea. Death Of Curio.
But in the distant regions of the earth
Fierce Caesar warring, though in fight he dealt
No baneful slaughter, hastened on the doom
To swift fulfillment. There on Magnus' side
Afranius and Petreius held command,
Who ruled alternate, and the rampart guard
Obeyed the standard of each chief in turn.
There with the Romans in the camp were joined
Asturians swift, and Vettons lightly armed,
And Celts who, exiled from their ancient home,
Had joined 'Iberus' to their former name.
Where the rich soil in gentle slope ascends
And forms a modest hill, Ilerda stands,
Founded in ancient days; beside her glides
Not least of western rivers, Sicoris
Of placid current, by a mighty arch
Of stone o'erspanned, which not the winter floods
Shall overwhelm. Upon a rock hard by
Was Magnus' camp; but Caesar's on a hill,
Rivalling the first; and in the midst a stream.
Here boundless plains are spread beyond the range
Of human vision; Cinga girds them in
With greedy waves; forbidden to contend
With tides of ocean; for that larger flood
Who names the land, Iberus, sweeps along
The lesser stream commingled with his own.
Guiltless of war, the first day saw the hosts
In long array confronted; standard rose
Opposing standard, numberless; yet none
Essayed attack, in shame of impious strife.
One day they gave their country and her laws.
But Caesar, when from heaven fell the night,
Drew round a hasty trench; his foremost rank
With close array concealing those who wrought.
Then with the morn he bids them seize the hill
Which parted from the camp Ilerda's walls,
And gave them safety. But in fear and shame
On rushed the foe and seized the vantage ground,
First in the onset. From the height they held
Their hopes of conquest; but to Caesar's men
Their hearts by courage stirred, and their good swords
Promised the victory. Burdened up the ridge
The soldier climbed, and from the opposing steep
But for his comrade's shield had fallen back;
None had the space to hurl the quivering lance
Upon the foeman: spear and pike made sure
The failing foothold, and the falchion's edge
Hewed out their upward path. But Caesar saw
Ruin impending, and he bade his horse
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poem by Marcus Annaeus Lucanus
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Victory will be surely theirs
Victory will be surely theirs.
Without victory they will never get back
their lost homes.
Victory will be surely theirs.
For, without victory they will never be able
to sleep with their loved ones by their side.
In the middle of the night every tanks
will encircle their refugee camps,
snatch their adolescent boys and girls
from their mothers’ shelter,
bind their eyes and take them away.
Unless victory is theirs
the enemy’s insolent legs will go on kicking
their most revered old women.
Their ill fated children won’t be able to stop
the enemy’s bullets even by hiding themselves
behind their fathers’ broad chests.
Victory will be surely theirs
for they are not afraid
of the enemy’s hundreds of killer weapons,
their most modern bomber planes,
the earth quake like holocaust
hundreds of corpses of their kith and kin.
They are not afraid of the western power’s
military might,
and, so, victory will be surely theirs.
In order to teach the enemy a proper lesson
they fling their own lives like a grenade
into the enemy camp.
And, so, victory will be surely theirs.
There is no other desire in their limbs
other than that of self sacrifice
and the destruction of their enemy.
No battle formation of the enemy
can throttle that desire.
They throw away their lives like paltry pebbles
into the waters of death.
Their souls, in a frenzy for freedom,
fly upwards like blazing fireworks
towards the Great Freedom,
learning behind life’s eternal truth.
----
poem by Shafiqul Islam
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The Unknown Eros. Book I.
I
Saint Valentine’s Day
Well dost thou, Love, thy solemn Feast to hold
In vestal February;
Not rather choosing out some rosy day
From the rich coronet of the coming May,
When all things meet to marry!
O, quick, prævernal Power
That signall'st punctual through the sleepy mould
The Snowdrop's time to flower,
Fair as the rash oath of virginity
Which is first-love's first cry;
O, Baby Spring,
That flutter'st sudden 'neath the breast of Earth
A month before the birth;
Whence is the peaceful poignancy,
The joy contrite,
Sadder than sorrow, sweeter than delight,
That burthens now the breath of everything,
Though each one sighs as if to each alone
The cherish'd pang were known?
At dusk of dawn, on his dark spray apart,
With it the Blackbird breaks the young Day's heart;
In evening's hush
About it talks the heavenly-minded Thrush;
The hill with like remorse
Smiles to the Sun's smile in his westering course;
The fisher's drooping skiff
In yonder sheltering bay;
The choughs that call about the shining cliff;
The children, noisy in the setting ray;
Own the sweet season, each thing as it may;
Thoughts of strange kindness and forgotten peace
In me increase;
And tears arise
Within my happy, happy Mistress' eyes,
And, lo, her lips, averted from my kiss,
Ask from Love's bounty, ah, much more than bliss!
Is't the sequester'd and exceeding sweet
Of dear Desire electing his defeat?
Is't the waked Earth now to yon purpling cope
Uttering first-love's first cry,
Vainly renouncing, with a Seraph's sigh,
Love's natural hope?
Fair-meaning Earth, foredoom'd to perjury!
Behold, all amorous May,
With roses heap'd upon her laughing brows,
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poem by Coventry Patmore
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