Guillaume Apollinaire
The Cavalier’s Goodbye
God! this soldiering’s a delight
We sit around we joke and sing
The north wind and our sighs unite
I keep on polishing this ring*
God be with you! The trumpet call!
He trotted off across the rise
And there he died and left his girl
To laugh at fate in her surprise
* Here, and in ‘For Madeleine alone’, Apollinaire refers to the fact that soldiers used to make rings for their sweethearts out of fragments of aluminium from shells.
Translated by Robert Chandler
Page(s) 144
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