The Engagement.

Preamble

In November 1942 a 20 year old boy from Glasgow was spending his third year in the north of India, separated from the girl he had fallen in love with while at University. The Second World War was to keep them apart for 4 years.  He kept a detailed diary of his this life full of war’s uncertainties; a diary in which he reveals just who he is.  His writing and his dearest “A” nourished his spirit throughout those years.  “A” was for “Annie”, my mum. They became engaged that month and then, just before Christmas several of his friends were killed in a road accident.

He wrote this poem at midnight on Christmas Eve.

December 24^th  1942  Allahabad.

 

If I should die what will you think of me?

Will you remember then our carefree days Continue reading The Engagement.

                          Pilgrim

 

Translated by John@the-raft-of-corks.com

Just short of Random, a milli-sliver less than Chaos

We float on a pea green pond and maybe

A swooping swallow will choke upon an ear of corn

He syphons in his swift and daring dive to drink.

 

It must have happened once: before they learned

That little flotsam can asphyxiate.

I hear that just last year Nebraska swallows flew on shorter wings

So´s not to die from blows from fast-flying cars on Highway 80.

 

A little less is life not death.

 

https://www.sciencenews.org/article/shorter-winged-swallows-evolve-around-highways