Colditz: New Year in the Cells
Europe gyved in ice,
Trussed in blood and hunger.
Her abundant warmth and joy
Wastes out of wounds into the snow.
The widow was lucky in the raid
If one child survived.
The ship was lucky at sea
If all drowned soon.
The corpse was lucky in the snow
If he spilled a full guts there.
God curse the cold
That’s frozen the bell-tongue;
The war and hunger
That’s flayed the ringer;
Curse all black blood,
The sentry, and the prisoner,
This starry night,
This starry night.
Page(s) 75
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