Beyond the sky by Helaza

Song to all my wordpress friends..

Advertisements

WW2 Poem : “Mrs. Evans fach, you want butter again” by Idris Davies

 

Mrs.Evans fach, you want butter again.
How will you pay for it now, little woman
With your husband out on strike, and full
Of the fiery language? Ay, I know him,
His head is full of fire and brimstone
And a lot of palaver about communism,
And me, little Dan the Grocer
Depending so much on private enterprise.

What, depending on the miners and their
Money too? O yes, in a way, Mrs. Evans,
Come tomorrow, little woman, and I’ll tell you then
What I have decided overnight.
Go home now and tell that rash red husband of yours
That your grocer cannot afford to go on strike
Or what would happen to the butter from Carmarthen?
Good day for now, Mrs.Evans fach.

Idris Davies ( 1905 – 1953)

The Night of the Bayonet Poem

The night was filled with dark and cold,
When Sergeant Talbert the story’s told,
Pulled out his poncho and headed out,
To check the lines dressed like a Kraut.

Upon a trooper our hero came,
Fast asleep; he called his name.
“Smith, oh Smith, get up, it’s time
To take your turn out on the line.”

Private Smith, so very weary,
Cracked an eye, all red and bleary,
Grabbed his rifle and did not tarry,
Hearing Floyd, but seeing Gerry.

“It’s me!” cried Tab. “Don’t do it!” and yet,
Smith charged toute de suite with bayonet.
He lunged, he thrust, both high and low,
And skeweth the boy from Kokomo.

And as they carried him away,
Our punctured hero was heard to say,
“When in this war you venture out,
best never do it dressed as a Kraut!”

Written by Erik Jendresen from Band of Brothers
based on the research from the Veterans of Easy Company

WW2 Aviation Poetry : Night Bombers

Eastward they climb, black shapes against the grey
Of falling dusk, gone with the nodding day
From English fields.
Not theirs the sudden glow
Of triumph that their fighter-brothers know;
Only to fly through cloud, through storm, through Night
Unerring, and to keep their purpose bright,
Nor turn until, their dreadful duty done,
Westward they climb to race the awakened sun.

Owen Chave (1943)

Mengenal cinta yang hilang

Perjalanan yang panjang itu ada simpang yang banyak,
Simpang yang elok dan tidak,
Penat mencoba setiap simpang, tapi harus tahu pulang ke pangkal jalan.

Banyak simpang yang menunggu,
Dan kita tidak bersendirian berjalan
pokok, angin dan langit..sentiasa disekeliling,
yang tidak bisa jemu,
tika setiap saat dan waktu

Perjalanan bukan bererti pulang,
Ia satu tempoh mengenal cinta, yang hilang.