Upon the seven-coloured ribbon that encircle
The heavens, as a wreathe on sea of roses,
I saw these deeds, hellish and unsightly deeds,
Done to _bleeding mortals_ whose blood bonded their
Holy course, dying fighting, fighting dying,
Dedicating and sacrificing, and chanting
Hallowed vows on this immortal ground,
On this ground immortality,
Watered with fervent blood.
Here I cannot dream, not imagine, not think,
Not even ask, but to gaze and gaze and listen,
And stand still.
One cannot cry nor laugh not even feel unconcern
Standing on this cold soil vibrating frequency of this
Monumental ground, or sharing the human mesh that
These humans share, these friends, these brothers.
A joy I saw, sorrow I see, the sorrow of mourning,
The tears of grief. _They_ lay dead,
Not as lumbers but as humans, equal in strengths