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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=398062" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Ghost from the war</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">A military base close to the border<br>that divides our country from that of the enemy, <br>a tent through which the wild wind<br>at gale force strength blows red sand, <br>pressed into a war by politicians<br>who decide about the destiny of men.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A trench where enemy soldiers, <br>women and children lie shot dead, <br>ripped apart by hand grenades<br>and mortar bombs<br>and from the outside<br>it looks like patriotism, national interest<br>for which you do service<br>but on the inside you are caught<br>by destiny<br>where other people like gods<br>take decisions that have an impact on you.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Dead are the innocent, <br>bystanders, a young man<br>who hasn’t even come to age <br>and there are flames<br>that burns right through the thorn bushes, <br>where a Ratel armoured car is burning<br>and I wonder about the presence of God, <br>about the lot of man<br>and the thorn bush burns, the whole veldt<br>is in flames.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Being lost makes me sober<br>while I try hard to forget<br>of the havoc that I know, <br>how war ravages, destroys, tramples<br>and how easily people die, especially those<br>that doesn’t really deserve it<br>and everybody are settled into<br>just another number and name.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>[Reference: Ghosts from the call by Japie S Strydom: </div><div style="margin:10px 0">“ a fortress, <br>a trench, <br>a tent, <br>an institution<br> for the mentally insane; <br>Big syllables on the outside in large characters type: <br>GET EVERYTHING HERE IN HUGE QUANTITIES</div><div style="margin:10px 0">From the outside<br>a shadow that falls without end<br>from the inside a prison.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Being bound, <br>  lost, <br>  day long working, trying to remember, <br>  remembering to withdraw, <br>  to spend time, by writing meaningless sentences<br>  wondered, though about: <br>    mother, <br>    our home, <br>    brother<br>    no Father.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">    a command, <br>    a decree, <br>    An invitation to recognize, <br>    identification of: <br>     a soldier<br>     a man, <br>     a boy, <br>     still somewhat a child, <br>     killed.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">  Killed between the branches<br>   of a burning umbrella-thorn bush<br>   almost like Moses with God, <br>  but burnt right out of his boots<br>   almost not stopped burning<br>   with white phosphor that doesn’t want to die<br>   I saw again today: <br>  <br>  In the thick bush<br>  man<br>  – returned to earth<br>  in the stomach blood of a boy<br>  mixed with sand.” (My English translation.) ]</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Gert+Strydom">Gert Strydom</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=398062" data-title="Ghost from the war de Gert Strydom" data-description="A military base close to the border
that divides our country from that of the enemy, 
a tent through which the wild wind
at gale force strength blows red sand, 
pressed into a war by politicians
who decide about the destiny of men.

A trench where..."></div>
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