<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=518926" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Concert Party</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">(EGYPTIAN BASE CAMP)</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>They are gathering round.... <br>Out of the twilight; over the grey-blue sand, <br>Shoals of low-jargoning men drift inward to the sound— <br>The jangle and throb of a piano ... tum-ti-tum... <br>Drawn by a lamp, they come <br>Out of the glimmering lines of their tents, over the shuffling sand. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">O sing us the songs, the songs of our own land, <br>You warbling ladies in white. <br>Dimness conceals the hunger in our faces, <br>This wall of faces risen out of the night,<br>These eyes that keep their memories of the places <br>So long beyond their sight. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Jaded and gay, the ladies sing; and the chap in brown <br>Tilts his grey hat; jaunty and lean and pale, <br>He rattles the keys ... some actor-bloke from town... <br>God send you home; and then A long, long trail; <br>I hear you calling me; and Dixieland.... <br>Sing slowly ... now the chorus ... one by one <br>We hear them, drink them; till the concert’s done. <br>Silent, I watch the shadowy mass of soldiers stand. <br>Silent, they drift away, over the glimmering sand. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Kantara, April 1918.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Siegfried+Sassoon">Siegfried Sassoon</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <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=518926" data-title="Concert Party de Siegfried Sassoon" data-description="(EGYPTIAN BASE CAMP) They are gathering round.... Out of the twilight; over the grey-blue sand, Shoals of low-jargoning men drift inward to the sound— The jangle and throb of a piano ... tum-ti-tum... Drawn by a lamp, they come Out of the..."></div> </div> </div>

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