I wrote these lines of love, my dear,

Before the cold days of the war.

When you were near, so near, my dear;

When I was close, so close, to here,

And no one knew what lay in store.

Now all these lines have chilled, my dear,

Though love remains, strong as before.

Now you are far, so far, my dear,

While I am shivering with fear;

And all we can expect is more.

...

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If only we could get along

As neighbours, lovers and as friends;

To learn to sing each other’s songs,

And join hands as the world intends.

Some obstacle stands in the way

Of life in harmony and peace;

The children of all nations play,

But come adulthood this will cease.

For once toy guns and catapults

Are swapped for a more strong-armed state,

There seems to...

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The sweaty boy lay on the beach;

‘You stink’, his girlfriend said.

But when awaking later on,

They sensed a world expired,

Where everyone was dead.

There was the sea, of course;

But, in truth, there was no sea.

Just their memories of water.

They longed for yesterday’s comforts:

When the old priest cackled and quacked,

Two lovers quarrelled beneath the pines

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She flaunted her quiet little lover,

Who made no fuss and took out the empties;

Hopped off the bus with a spring in his step

And provided the paradise she craved.

Her friends would say: ‘she looks so much better’.

But now he has left, she sits, immobile,

And when she moves, she spreads herself too thin,

Her cascade of tears moistening the street;

Bereft of all sympathy, exc...

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Last Night, through the Window

Last night, through the window,

I heard a train;

But I am far from the railway.

Last night, through the window,

I heard a plane;

But I am far from the airport.

Last night, through the window,

I heard a bus;

But I am far from the road.

Last night, through the window,

I heard an owl;

But I am far from the woods.

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