dedalus Posted January 15, 2010 Share Posted January 15, 2010 (edited) ... tears by bards or heroes shed Alike immortalize the dead. When I travel in dreams to 1916, to the barricades of Dublin, to the angry cannonades by the streams of the Ancre above the Somme, I can see their tired individual faces squinting east into the sun. Curiosity rather than fear now traces the look in their eyes, hands clasped loosely on rifle or gun, their look of wonder married to mild surprise, the morning roll-ups drooping on young dry lips. This thing we have been waiting for all our lives, this event from boyhood only half-imagined, is about to begin. What will it be like? Edited January 16, 2010 by dedalus Quote Drown your sorrows in drink, by all means, but the real sorrows can swim Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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