It seems to have become a tragic tradition in this siege that we end the day with an elegy for the dead. This is for 25-year-old -- some reports have 22-year old -- cameraman Rami Ryan who was killed while wearing his vest marked PRESS. I think of young Wilfred Owen the poet of the elegy below who also died young in World War One. This poem is also for the dozens dead today in the attack on the market and in the hope of recovery of the over 200 now confirmed injured from that blast. Anthem for Doomed Youth BY WILFRED OWEN 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 goodbyes. 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.
Posted on: Wed, 30 Jul 2014 21:14:35 +0000
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