By Robinson Jeffers
I have abhorred the wars and despised the liars, laughed at the frightened
And forecast victory; never one moment's doubt.
But now not far, over the backs of some crawling years, the next
Great war's column of dust and fire writhes
Up the sides of the sky: it becomes clear that we too may suffer
What others have, the brutal horror of defeat—
Or if not in the next, then in the next—therefore watch Germany
And read the future. We wish, of course, that our women
Would die like biting rats in the cellars, our men like wolves on the mountain:
It will not be so. Our men will curse, cringe, obey;
Our women uncover themselves to the grinning victors for bits of chocolate
Wow, this piece is very powerful. The last line really caught me off guard. It's seering how Jeffers juxtaposes the devestations and degradations of war with so mundane an image as "bits of chocolate". Of course in times of war, such small pleasure that we so often take for granted represent life itself.
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