Sunday, 11 November 2007

Remembrance Day Tribute

The young dead soldiers do not speak.
Nevertheless, they are heard in the still houses: who has not heard them?
They have a silence that speaks for them at night and when the clock counts.
They say: We were young. We have died. Remember us.
They say: We have done what we could but until it is finished it is not done.
They say: We have given our lives but until it is finished no one can know what our lives gave. They say: Our deaths are not ours: they are yours, they will mean what you make them.
They say: Whether our lives and our deaths were for peace and a new hope or for nothing we cannot say, it is you who must say this.
We leave you our deaths. Give them their meaning.
We were young, they say. We have died; remember us.

Archibald MacLeish, 1892-1982, American Poet

1 comment:

Jorge said...

This poem should be painfully inscribed on the chests of all those who have ever sent soldiers into war, as well those who have supported their decision. For anyone who was ever in combat knows that there is no glory to be found there - only pain and death.
Be well,
J.

Holy Thought of the Week

"To live fully is to let go and die with each passing moment, and to be reborn in each new one."

~ Jack Kornfield ~