Pé de poesia

Celebra-se hoje o Dia Mundial da Poesia. A minha partilha é um poema de Rudyard Kipling:

Boots

INFANTRY COLUMNS

We're foot--slog--slog--slog--sloggin' over Africa --

Foot--foot--foot--foot--sloggin' over Africa --

(Boots--boots--boots--boots--movin' up an' down again!)

There's no discharge in the war!

Seven--six--eleven--five--nine-an'-twenty mile to-day --

Four--eleven--seventeen--thirty-two the day before --

(Boots--boots--boots--boots--movin' up an' down again!)

There's no discharge in the war!

Don't--don't--don't--don't--look at what's in front of you.

(Boots--boots--boots--boots--movin' up an' down again);

Men--men--men--men--men go mad with watchin' em,

An' there's no discharge in the war!

Try--try--try--try--to think o' something different --

Oh--my--God--keep--me from goin' lunatic!

(Boots--boots--boots--boots--movin' up an' down again!)

There's no discharge in the war!

Count--count--count--count--the bullets in the bandoliers.

If--your--eyes--drop--they will get atop o' you!

(Boots--boots--boots--boots--movin' up an' down again) --

There's no discharge in the war!

We--can--stick--out--'unger, thirst, an' weariness,

But--not--not--not--not the chronic sight of 'em --

Boot--boots--boots--boots--movin' up an' down again,

An' there's no discharge in the war!

'Taint--so--bad--by--day because o' company,

But night--brings--long--strings--o' forty thousand million

Boots--boots--boots--boots--movin' up an' down again.

There's no discharge in the war!

I--'ave--marched--six--weeks in 'Ell an' certify

It--is--not--fire--devils, dark, or anything,

But boots--boots--boots--boots--movin' up an' down again,

An' there's no discharge in the war!