"Мы все умрем, если откажет наша связь…" © XR
Second Front
Here upsweeps a ridge. Passing
Dorchester, we smell
the wind of the quick sea rustling
over the bristling spiky green
of the young corn
and the reddening grasses.
Moving on a ridge of time, we listen
and snuff the future's wind.
We hear the unseen sea.
It is freedom singing ahead.
And there the grass will be red
and the shrapnel spikes glistening.
© Jack Lindsay
Here upsweeps a ridge. Passing
Dorchester, we smell
the wind of the quick sea rustling
over the bristling spiky green
of the young corn
and the reddening grasses.
Moving on a ridge of time, we listen
and snuff the future's wind.
We hear the unseen sea.
It is freedom singing ahead.
And there the grass will be red
and the shrapnel spikes glistening.
© Jack Lindsay