A Poem in my Journal meme (for the last day of national Poetry month)

[richardf8]

The Man He Killed
by Thomas Hardy.

Had he and I but met
By some old ancient inn,
We should have set us down to wet
Right many a nipperkin!

But ranged as infantry,
And staring face to face,
I shot at him as he at me,
And killed him in his place.

I shot him dead because--
Because he was my foe,
Just so: my foe of course he was;
That's clear enough; although

He thought he'd 'list, perhaps,
Off-hand like--just as I--
Was out of work--had sold his traps--
No other reason why.

Yes; quaint and curious war is!
You shoot a fellow down
You'd treat, if met where any bar is,
Or help to half a crown.

Comments

[deckardcanine.livejournal.com]

I studied Thomas Hardy last semester. One of the most miserable-sounding poets I know, and that should say a lot.

[morgan1.livejournal.com]

This poem is an old friend. And so sadly appropriate now. It perfectly captures the irony and the tragedy of war: ordinary people, not bad people really, shoot and kill one another. An the other guy isn't a monster (no matter how much your propaganda may paint him as such), he's an ordinary guy just like you.