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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=381191" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>As the Team's Head- Brass</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">As the team's head-brass flashed out on the turn<br>The lovers disappeared into the wood.<br>I sat among the boughs of the fallen elm<br>That strewed the angle of the fallow, and<br>Watched the plough narrowing a yellow square<br>Of charlock. Every time the horses turned<br>Instead of treading me down, the ploughman leaned<br>Upon the handles to say or ask a word, <br>About the weather, next about the war.<br>Scraping the share he faced towards the wood, <br>And screwed along the furrow till the brass flashed<br>Once more.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The blizzard felled the elm whose crest<br>I sat in, by a woodpecker's round hole, <br>The ploughman said. 'When will they take it away? '<br>'When the war's over.' So the talk began –<br>One minute and an interval of ten, <br>A minute more and the same interval.<br>'Have you been out? ' 'No.' 'And don't want to, perhaps? '<br>'If I could only come back again, I should.<br>I could spare an arm, I shouldn't want to lose<br>A leg. If I should lose my head, why, so, <br>I should want nothing more...Have many gone<br>From here? ' 'Yes.' 'Many lost? ' 'Yes, a good few.<br>Only two teams work on the farm this year.<br>One of my mates is dead. The second day<br>In France they killed him. It was back in March, <br>The very night of the blizzard, too. Now if<br>He had stayed here we should have moved the tree.'<br>'And I should not have sat here. Everything<br>Would have been different. For it would have been<br>Another world.' 'Ay, and a better, though<br>If we could see all all might seem good.' Then<br>The lovers came out of the wood again: <br>The horses started and for the last time<br>I watched the clods crumble and topple over<br>After the ploughshare and the stumbling team.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Edward+Thomas">Edward Thomas</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=381191" data-title="As the Team's Head- Brass de Edward Thomas" data-description="As the team's head-brass flashed out on the turn
The lovers disappeared into the wood.
I sat among the boughs of the fallen elm
That strewed the angle of the fallow, and
Watched the plough narrowing a yellow square
Of charlock. Every time the hors..."></div>
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