Anthem for Doomed Youth
"My subject is War and the pity of War. The Poetry is in the pity", once said the English War Poet Wilfred Owen (1893-1918). His poem Anthem for Doomed Youth is a heart-rending illustration of what he meant by this. There is an added poignancy to this poem, as Wilfred Owen was killed in action just seven days before the Armistice (the official end of World War I). I have attempted a loose Amharic translation of Anthem for Doomed Youth, and I dedicate this translation to all of our fellow human beings ‘who died as cattle’ in the fields of Badme, during the war between Ethiopia and Eritrea (1998-2000) .
Anthem for Doomed Youth
What passing-bells for these who die as cattle?
-Only the monstrous anger of the guns.
Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle
Can patter out their hasty orisons.
No mockeries now for them; no prayers nor bells;
Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs,-
The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells;
And bugles calling for them from sad shires.
What candles may be held to speed them all?
Not in the hands of boys but in their eyes
Shall shine the holy glimmers of good-byes.
The pallor of girls' brows shall be their pall;
Their flowers the tenderness of patient minds,
And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds.
If in some smothering dreams you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,---
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.
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Thanks for the kind words.
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Oh my Gosh I loved his poem! It makes me pretty thoghtful about life in this univers!
P.S Meles will be history very soon! to be exact End of Aug!...Zerfye..get ready...He!he! (Comment this)