| She looked over his shoulder | |
| For vines and olive trees, | |
| Marble well-governed cities | |
| And ships upon untamed seas, | |
| But there on the shining metal | 5 |
| His hands had put instead | |
| An artificial wilderness | |
| And a sky like lead. | |
| |
| A plain without a feature, bare and brown, | |
| No blade of grass, no sign of neighborhood, | 10 |
| Nothing to eat and nowhere to sit down, | |
| Yet, congregated on its blankness, stood | |
| An unintelligible multitude, | |
| A million eyes, a million boots in line, | |
| Without expression, waiting for a sign. | 15 |
| |
| Out of the air a voice without a face | |
| Proved by statistics that some cause was just | |
| In tones as dry and level as the place: | |
| No one was cheered and nothing was discussed; | |
| Column by column in a cloud of dust | 20 |
| They marched away enduring a belief | |
| Whose logic brought them, somewhere else, to grief. | |
| |
| She looked over his shoulder | |
| For ritual pieties, | |
| White flower-garlanded heifers, | 25 |
| Libation and sacrifice, | |
| But there on the shining metal | |
| Where the altar should have been, | |
| She saw by his flickering forge-light | |
| Quite another scene. | 30 |
| |
| Barbed wire enclosed an arbitrary spot | |
| Where bored officials lounged (one cracked a joke) | |
| And sentries sweated for the day was hot: | |
| A crowd of ordinary decent folk | |
| Watched from without and neither moved nor spoke | 35 |
| As three pale figures were led forth and bound | |
| To three posts driven upright in the ground. | |
| |
| The mass and majesty of this world, all | |
| That carries weight and always weighs the same | |
| Lay in the hands of others; they were small | 40 |
| And could not hope for help and no help came: | |
| What their foes like to do was done, their shame | |
| Was all the worst could wish; they lost their pride | |
| And died as men before their bodies died. | |
| |
| She looked over his shoulder | 45 |
| For athletes at their games, | |
| Men and women in a dance | |
| Moving their sweet limbs | |
| Quick, quick, to music, | |
| But there on the shining shield | 50 |
| His hands had set no dancing-floor | |
| But a weed-choked field. | |
| |
| A ragged urchin, aimless and alone, | |
| Loitered about that vacancy; a bird | |
| Flew up to safety from his well-aimed stone: | 55 |
| That girls are raped, that two boys knife a third, | |
| Were axioms to him, who'd never heard | |
| Of any world where promises were kept, | |
| Or one could weep because another wept. | |
| |
| The thin-lipped armorer, | 60 |
| Hephaestos, hobbled away, | |
| Thetis of the shining breasts | |
| Cried out in dismay | |
| At what the god had wrought | |
| To please her son, the strong | 65 |
| Iron-hearted man-slaying Achilles | |
| Who would not live long. | |