Far Away

Хорошее стихотворение для воссоздания атмосферы Великой войны в рамках TRPG.




With equipment strapped to my shoulders,
And my rifle close to my hand,
My head stretched out to the ridgeward,
I wait here in No Man's land
'Mid the litter and lumber of battle
On the shell-churned clay of France,
Where the craters and crumbling trenches
Bear the signs of the hoped advance.

I wait while the barrage lengthens,
While the rifles crack on the hill,
Then the bombs explode in the dugouts
And the first-line trench grows still
'Mid the crash of the answering shrapnel,
Lit my signal flakes of the Hun
As the final waves pass over
To the tat of the Lewis gun.

Out here in the rain and bluster,
Thick mud on my khaki form,
I wait through the long day's battle,
Through the night of the snow and the storm,
Till the fighting surges forward,
And the No Man's land of the past
Is a place of quiet and shelter,
And reaches its peace at last.

I wait till the burying party
Shall find me here in the clay,
Shall loose the disc from my bosom
And take my poor trinkets away,
Then dig a grave to lay me
Away from this weary war,
And the shell-torn crest of Vimy
Shall cradle me evermore.

And then in the roll of honour,
Just one feeble flicker of fame
E'er I sink in the great oblivion,
Will be written my humble name;
And the fighting will still press Eastward
To the victory close at hand,
But I shall be dreamlessly sleeping
In the quiet of No Man's land.

by T.A. Girling