A thousand years from this tonight
When Orion climbs the sky,
The same swift snow will still the roofs,
The same mad stars run by.
And who will know of China's war,
Or poison gas in Spain?
The dead. . .they'll be forgotten, lost,
Whether they lose or gain.
Of all the brilliant strategies
Of war-lords now alive,
Perhaps a Chinese iris vase
Of porcelain, may survive . . .
Perhaps a prayer, perhaps a song,
Fashioned of love and tears,
But only beauty . . . only truth
Will last a thousand years.
--Margaret Moore Meuttman
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