I am deserting Isaac Rosenberg today - but not really because this poem by the Second World War poet Keith Douglas, is a tribute to him.
Keith Douglas was born in Tunbridge Wells and educated at Christ's Hospital and Oxford.
He served in North Africa during World War Two where he was injured by a land-mine and transferred home.
Recovered, he returned to active duty to take part in the invasion of Normandy in 1944, in which he died.
DESERT FLOWERS
Living in a wide landscape are the flowers -
Rosenberg I only repeat what you were saying -
the shell and the hawk every hour
are slaying men and jerboas, slaying
the mind: but the body can fill
the hungry flowers and the dogs who cry words
at nights, the most hostile things of all.
But that is not new. Each time the night discards
draperies on the eyes and leaves the mind awake
I look each side of the door of sleep
for the little coin it will take
to buy the secret I shall not keep.
I see men as trees suffering
or confound the detail and the horizon.
Lay the coin on my tongue and I will sing
of what the others never set eyes on.
Keith Douglas
If a fool can see his own folly, he in this at least is wise; but the fool who thinks he is wise, he indeed is the real fool.
