How deeply nurtured is your foolishness...

How deeply nurtured is your foolishness,

Calling destruction great and slaughter brave,

Making large triumph of a little grave,

Imperial purple of a mourning dress,

The gun an emblem of your godliness —

A fluttering ribbon or a banner's wave,

A medal or a bayonet, or rave

Of singing, marching in the forward press

Of hatred to the banging of a band;

Your country's honour and the world's release.

Are they not strong in courage who withstand

The armies of your folly and shall cease

To tarnish with spilt life their motherland?

Cowards — or martyrs — crucified for peace.