CATALONIA

ihe flag of darkness lowers at half mast

Blotting the blood-stained hieroglyphs with eyes Strained from the smoke, the flares, the rat-tat-tat Of guns‘ incessant speech. A sudden 11111 " Fans wind on baht . betokens from far hills

The ones who rest--oh unbelievably

A girl who rests tired head on easy arm

And sleeps encircled by her own heart-beat.

But. we, grey snakes who twist and squirm our way From hump to sudden hump. roll in a hole

01‘ slime. scarring our knees to keep awake-

For us horizons reel, groping for a. centre.

Stars burn in whirling sockets overhead»

We wrench ourselbes over the last tench. down Down. down in scurrying scramble tossed

Towards lost lines, lost outposts, lost defence...