A U.S. soldier touches the head of the room mate of the late PFC Allen Brenton Jaynes from Texas during a memorial service in the U.S. forces army camp in Baghdad, January 26, 2007. Jaynes was killed last week by a roadside bomb while four of his colleagues were wounded.
REUTERS/Erik de Castro (IRAQ)
I Hear an Army
by James Joyce
I hear an army charging upon the land,
And the thunder of horses plunging, foam about their knees:
Arrogant, in black armour, behind them stand,
Disdaining the reins, with fluttering whips, the charioteers.
They cry unto the night their battle-name:
I moan in sleep when I hear afar their whirling laughter.
They cleave the gloom of dreams, a blinding flame,
Clanging, clanging upon the heart as upon an anvil.
They come shaking in triumph their long, green hair:
They come out of the sea and run shouting by the shore.
My heart, have you no wisdom thus to despair?
My love, my love, my love, why have you left me alone?