POEMS FROM A TENDER AGE
On Masada
Did drip
- the zealot's blood -
when engines did array,
on Masada hill that day.
Rebellion, tho' long overdue,
beneath the Roman yoke,
. . . in isolation broke.
Last bastion of oppressed folk.
What unified demeanour gave them up
to be a Roman slave?
How can resistance
- in their eyes -
reduce them thus
. . . the world despise?
Can bring to me the longest day
when women ..
children ..
did he slay?
Not yet awhile
... we think it's done
... on that stark hill that stands alone.
Four Heavens lighted up
and yet.
In consequence ...
In suffering ...
Did one so fearless then as fret.
Smote fearlessly the one before
- the one last held the winning straw?
As ramparts built upon the shore
of this poor isle .....
Masada!
- the zealot's blood -
when engines did array,
on Masada hill that day.
Rebellion, tho' long overdue,
beneath the Roman yoke,
. . . in isolation broke.
Last bastion of oppressed folk.
What unified demeanour gave them up
to be a Roman slave?
How can resistance
- in their eyes -
reduce them thus
. . . the world despise?
Can bring to me the longest day
when women ..
children ..
did he slay?
Not yet awhile
... we think it's done
... on that stark hill that stands alone.
Four Heavens lighted up
and yet.
In consequence ...
In suffering ...
Did one so fearless then as fret.
Smote fearlessly the one before
- the one last held the winning straw?
As ramparts built upon the shore
of this poor isle .....
Masada!
