Before the Thirteenth, Hamburg, May 1942
Arthur E Newall
Now I have done twelve.
If I could shelve tonight's affair
And not be there
When the clouded moon
Lights up the Alster;
But could instead go home
And sleep
Certain to see tomorrow's day
Then I could live
Grow young
Someday turn grey
But now I feel that this is my last day.
It seems that I shall never do
The things I planned.
Smell no more new cut grass
Touch falling water
Stand cliff high
Facing wind swept sea rain
Or walk those meadows
Holding a smooth hand.
And will she with the fair tumbling hair
Say white haired,
'I knew an airman once, Loved him, too.'
And then she'll shake her head the way I know so well
And say, 'He loved me, too.'
She'll know I'm there.
Watching from every cloud
Carried along in dreams and memories
Trailing the bright stars in Summer;
Perhaps in Autumn
She'll watch the leaves dancing
In every wayward breeze.
Leaves falling from boughs traced lace black
Against the glooming sky.
She'll see me - saying - half aloud,
'He came this way. Look how the old leaves flutter
Sighing for old friends
That living cannot last.'
But in the Spring
When all the hedgerows light up
With May blossom
And the lilacs bloom
I may be found in each new jewelled field
Tasting the sweet drops from new reaching blades
Then she'll run to me
And call my name.
Cry it across the shouting wind
Across our fields
In rain or in the lightning flash
She'll find me there.
And we shall find sweet, solitary bliss
Without the sadness of a parting kiss.
