Zakalwe’s Song Watching from the room As the troops go by. You ought to be able to tell, I think, Whether they are going or coming back By just leaving the gaps in the ranks. You are a fool, I said, And turned to leave, Or maybe only mix a drink For that deft throat to swallow Like all my finest lies. I faced into the shadow of things, You leant against the window, Gazing at nothing. When are we going to leave? We could get stuck here, Caught If we try to stay too long. (turning) Why don’t we leave? I said nothing, Stroked a cracked glass, Exclusive knowledge in the silence; The bomb lives only as it is falling. Iain. M. Banks – Use of Weapons(1990)
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International Accent Comp. - Text Candidate 1 blog
