The child lies on the damp grass of the night
looking at the stars that pulsate in the dark infinity.
My son! you're too old to be playing with a wooden horse!
You're tall and you'll be a soldier!
In the dream, pass the brightly coloured hussars,
dragons covered in gold and blood,
old hands bent over all battles,
history at full gallop, poor horse carcass,
in the ukrainian plains and andalusian sierras ...
Fall asleep brave child under a sky
that smells of hops and gunpowder!
Boy, all day long, heart beating in your chest ,
''Vive l'empereur!''
You'll wake up at Waterloo station, between a scot gray
and a polish lancer, the little drum at your side
like shattered orphan, slowly sobbling ...
A compassionate virgin takes your body in her arms ...
The dream goes on...
Offline)
Comments4
Lots of people at Waterloo station...
Thank you for reading!
This is so visual
"Damp grass"
"Dragons covered in gold and blood "
Fantastic writing
Thoroughly enjoyed
Some dream some write
I'm glad you enjoyed it! Thanks for your comment!
Beautiful work.
Thank you!
That is such good writing
Thanks a lot!
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.