MICHELE COLLATINA
Poems Directory
I live in Rome. I do data processing. I sing in an Italian folk choir. I like guitar, chess, photogaphy, reading. I composed this song. Michele Collatina
Passchendaele, remember me into that mud and a sea barring my return many crosses like me, you should have known, didn't wonder the reason why.
Passchendaele, in November I had no more friends, but only the mud as an icy coat. The sky burned all night on hopeless crosses while I dreamed to go away
Your rain fell slowly melting the mud on my tears At 18 life is a silk thread still singing at daybreak the wind
Passchendaele, at daybreak you showed me your blades I saw they were mud blades for many crosses like me, you already know, here in Flanders the absolute king
Passchendaele, remember me under that mud and a mother who prays for my return The sky burned in the night on sleeping crosses I couldn't go away any more
Your rain fell slowly melting the blood in my tears At 18 life is a silk thread - still singing at daybreak the wind
Passchendaele, remember not to burn another sunrise in that jolly lonely place, rest forever Sing, sing joyfully because the tears have gone sing, sing loud if you can and think you see mud and rain while you see the words carved on my grave
The Battle of Passchendaele was World War I's most brutal campaign. Fall 1917 Passchendaele, a little village near Ypres, was key to the Flanders area. Passchendaele cost over 1/2 million lives in 3 months. Germany lost 250,000 lives, Britain 300,000 including 36,500 Australian. 90,000 British or Australian bodies were never identified. 42,000 never recovered were blown up or drowned in the dreadful morass. Many drowned were exhausted or wounded men who slipped or fell off the duckboards, unable to escape the filthy, foul-smelling glutinous mud, sinking deeper to their deaths as they struggled. BOOK The Battle of 3rd Ypres (Passchendaele) Geoffrey Miller
See the photo inspiring my song
Commentary
Fighting, south of the ramparts Death, north of the wall Death in the wilds: no burial, for crows to feast Go tell the crows: "Mourn for these soldiers first Death in the wilds and no burial: Can their rotten flesh escape you?" Deep water roars Dense reeds darken Riders fight to death Horses whinny back and forth Houses on bridges How, to south? How, to north? Ears of grains left unharvested, what can the lord eat? To be loyal, though willing, but how? Thinking of you, good soldiers Good soldiers worthy of thinking: Morning: to fight Dusk till night: no return
Chinese Poetry: Anthology of Major Modes and Genres Yueh-Fu Collection of Ballad-songs of the Han Dynasty Bureau of Music Wai-lim Yip, Editor and Translator
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