From pastures green, whereon I lie,
Beside still waters, far from crowds,
I lift hosannas to the sky
And hallelujahs to the clouds,
Only to see where clouds should sit
And in that space the sky should fill
The fierce carnivorous Messerschmitt,
The Heinkel on the kill.
They’ll not be green for very long
Those pastures of my peace, nor will
The heavens be a place for song,
Nor the still waters still.
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