“Two Dead Soldiers”
Two dead soldiers in bronze
Lying flat on a battlefield,
Anywhere.
Dismembered trunks and heads,
Severed membranes, nerves
Are tangled threads wrapped in blood,
Freezing in ice or clotted with mud.
They have no eyes,
they have no tongues
Sightless and blind and speechless
Shreds of rags
Flutter in the miserable wind
To cover the corpses.
The cloth, the flesh, the skin
Are of one colour and one texture.
Outflung and still the cracked bone
Of the broken arm, its crooked wing, unpinioned.
Unweaponed, the slack fingers of those
Useless hands.
Two dead soldiers
are a whole battlefield
Two faces, a million.
- Jean Arasanayagam
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