for Bernard Perlin

Now he has become one who upon that coast
landed by night and found the starving army.
Fed on their cheese and wine.      In those ravines
hidden by orphaned furious children lay
while cries and wounds and hour past hour of war
flamed past the broken pillars of that sky.

He saw the enemy.     His head is full of faces—
the living, the brave, a pure blazing alone
to fight a domination to the end.
And now he sees the rigid terrible friend
inert, peopled by armies, winning.      Now
he has become one given his life by those
fighting in Greece forever under a star
and now he knows how many wars there are.



                     https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bernard_Perlin