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“The Town Betrayed” by Edwin Muir 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿 (15 May 1887 – 3 Jan 1959)
Our homes are eaten out by Time,
Our lawns strewn with our listless sons,
Our harlot daughters lean and watch
The ships crammed down with shells and guns.
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Like painted prows far out they lean:
A world behind, a world before.
The leaves are covering up our hills,
Neptune has locked the shore.
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Our yellow harvests lie forlorn
And there we wander like the blind,
Returning from the golden field
With famine in our mind.
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Far inland now the glittering swords
In order rise, in order fall,
In order on the dubious field
The dubious trumpets call.
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Yet here there is no word, no sign
But quiet murder in the street.
Our leaf-light lives are spared or taken
By men obsessed and neat.
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We stand beside our windows, see
In order dark disorder come,
And prentice killers duped by Death
Bring and not know our doom.
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Our cattle wander at their will.
To-day a horse pranced proudly by.
The dogs run wild. Vultures and kites
Wait in the towers for us to die.
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At evening on the parapet
We sit and watch the sun go down,
Reading the landscape of the dead,
The sea, the hills, the town.
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There our ancestral ghosts are gathered.
Fierce Agamemnon’s form I see,
Watching as if his tents were Time
And Troy Eternity.
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We must take order, bar our gates,
Fight off these phantoms. Inland now
Achilles, Siegfried, Lancelot
Have sworn to bring us low.