When Barcelona fell, the darkened glass <br />turned in the world and immense ruinous gaze, <br />mirror of prophecy in a series of mirrors. <br />I meet it in all the faces that I see. <br /> <br />Decisions of history the radios reverse; <br />Storm over continents, black rays around the chief, <br />Finished in lightning, the little chaos raves. <br />I meet it in all the faces that I see. <br /> <br />Inverted year with one prophetic day, <br />high wind, forgetful cities, and the war, <br />the terrible time when everyone writes “hope.” <br />I meet it in all the faces that I see. <br /> <br />When Barcelona fell, the cry on the roads <br />assembled horizons, and the circle of eyes <br />looked with a lifetime look upon that image, <br />defeat among us, and war, and prophecy, <br />I meet it in all the faces that I see.<br /><br />Muriel Rukeyser<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/26-1-1939/
