Naked in the Ditches
phlegmatic on my bier
no regrets — my body bears
truth stem to stern
beginning with the hips
who am of common stock
looking to the sea
face ground — nothing now
conjured from dust
suffering — hung by the heels
sought occasion
as will was never conquered
to see the host broken
a swinging scythe — the dance
this most pleasant to me
so make moan of the old days
say why should love live