Happy Easter. All you pilots.
Whilst we were on the highbrow? music of the period in Nils thread, it put me in mind of the war poetry of the period. We don't see much of this side of our hobby, so here is a little something to start you all off for Easter. Apologies to anyone who is familiar with this already. Teach your grandmother to suck eggs etc.
Regards, Rob.
An Irish Airman Foresees His Death
I know that I shall meet my fate
Somewhere among the clouds above;
Those that I fight I do not hate,
Those that I guard I do not love;
My country is Kiltartan Cross,
My countrymen Kiltartan's poor,
No likely end could bring them loss
Or leave them happier than before.
Nor law, nor duty bade me fight,
Nor public men, nor cheering crowds,
A lonely impulse of delight
Drove to this tumult in the clouds;
I balanced all, brought all to mind,
The years to come seemed waste of breath,
A waste of breath the years behind
In balance with this life, this death.
William Butler Yeats
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Great Poem
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