My Living Soul Expect terror, expect death, Expect Injury and viciousness; After hours of misery A bloody battle approaches inevitably. Losing confidence and faith, Losing my hopes and aspirations As the enemy approaches over the hill While I stand alone and in shock. Feel the blood and feel the madness Feel the anxiety which will bring oblivion; The arms roaring until the dawn : I know that hell is now my world… Remembering the boys, remembering my friends, Remembering the nightmare of suffering; I myself gained the grace of God – But dead will be my living soul. Mari Wyn Jones (translated from Welsh)
CYMRU’N COFIO WALES REMEMBERS 1914−1918 |
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