O winds of war;
The frost you beckon,
That crimson ice-fire,
Beguiles youthful soldiers;
You veil them
In roseate fog;
The snow muffles shrieks;
And war’s terror ,in thy night,
Remains concealed.
But when the fog recedes:
Corpses alight
In a star-full night,
Starving buzzards
Like warplanes dive;
Clash of claw and meat.
Soldier’s remorse
Stains the snow,
With crystal tears,
It seals an empty vow:
‘Tis the vow of love
That ev’ry man doth keep;
Yet it’s easily broken,
Like a Ming vase
Full of crimson roses.