The End of World War One

Out of the scraped surface of the land
men began to emerge, like puppies
from the slit of their dam. Up from the trenches
they came out upon the pitted, raw earth
wobbling as if new-born.
They could not believe they would be allowed to live,
the orders had come down: no more killing.
They approached the enemy, holding out chocolate
and cigarettes. They shook hands, exchanged
souvenirs--mess-kits, neckerchiefs.
Some even embraced, while in London
total strangers copulated
in doorways and on the pavement, in the ecstasy
of being reprieved. Nine months later,
like men emerging from the trenches, first the head,
then the body, there were lifted, newborn, from these mothers,
the soldiers of World War Two.

Autor: Sharon Olds

The End of World War One<br /><br />Out of the scraped surface of the land<br />men began to emerge, like puppies<br />from the slit of their dam. Up from the trenches<br />they came out upon the pitted, raw earth<br />wobbling as if new-born.<br />They could not believe they would be allowed to live,<br />the orders had come down: no more killing.<br />They approached the enemy, holding out chocolate<br />and cigarettes. They shook hands, exchanged<br />souvenirs--mess-kits, neckerchiefs.<br />Some even embraced, while in London<br />total strangers copulated<br />in doorways and on the pavement, in the ecstasy<br />of being reprieved. Nine months later,<br />like men emerging from the trenches, first the head,<br />then the body, there were lifted, newborn, from these mothers,<br />the soldiers of World War Two. - Sharon Olds


©gutesprueche.com

Data privacy

Imprint
Contact
Wir benutzen Cookies

Diese Website verwendet Cookies, um Ihnen die bestmögliche Funktionalität bieten zu können.

OK Ich lehne Cookies ab