We halted in a town the host
ordered the table to be moved to the garden the first star
shone out and faded we were breaking bread
crickets were heard in the twilight loosestrife
a cry but a cry of a child otherwise the bustle
of insects of men a thick scent of earth
those who were sitting with their backs to the wall
saw violet now – the gallows hill
on the wall the dense ivy of executions
we were eating much
as is usual when nobody pays
(Zbigniew Herbert)
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Based on Topics: Man Poems, Cry Poems, Garden Poems, Insects PoemsBased on Keywords: loosestrife, executions