I was caught in a whirl, with loud shouts and drum rolls, <br />Flags streaming in the wind, delirious prophecies, <br />Squirting blood... Suddenly, from their feasts I was torn <br />And fell into rest which ignores time and worries. <br /> <br />I shut a crystal door on my new peacefulness. <br />Once the tumult had ceased, I was god, though vanquished <br />I saw how wings fluttered high above my recess, <br />But nothing would upset now my secluded bliss. <br /> <br />And a stubborn repose limits my violence. <br />I don't know if I am a dream or a soldier, <br />Nor the place of the fight causing my hesitance, <br /> <br />Nor shall I know under whose standard and order <br />I fought, the day I'll throw away helmet, shield, lance <br />And flee this rubbish fray for a bed of silence.<br /><br />Michel Galiana<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/inscription-on-a-stone-slab/
