Frank Corcoran

irish composer


The Afganistan

Buddha, smiling, said: ” explode

Me and my smile now !”

Under a low sun

Evening on the battlefield

All dirty, all dead.

The Afghan Buddha

Blown up by unshaven men

Smiled for one last time.

As I lay dying

On the battlefield, Buddha

Was dying with me

Sullen evening sun,

You mock my dying soldiers,

All their wounds stinking

In Afghanistan

The dirty evening sun dies

Jihadists groaning

Watch their broken jaws

Lie with the battlefield flies,

The dying sun low. * Frank Corcoran 2013 (

grian íseal…

scáileanna ar a dteitheadh

thar mhachairí an áir

a low sun …
shadows flee
across battlefields * Gabriel Rosenstock 2013 (

Posted under: Humble Hamburg Musings

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