派遣部隊 The Send-off：ウィルフレッド・オーウェン

　　駅員たちが彼らを眺め
　　乞食が食い入るように見つめていた
　　この連中がキャンプからいなくなるのは残念だ
　　そのうち静かに信号が出され
　　出発の合図をした

　　こうしてひそかに　まずいことででもあるかのように彼らは出発した
　　彼らは我々の部隊じゃない
　　彼らがどこに派遣されるのか我々は知らない

　　彼らが戻ってくるのは列車の積荷になって
　　告別の鐘を聞かされるためだろうか
　　生きて戻って来られるものはほんの一部だろう
　　この静かな村の井戸端に
　　知られざる道を歩きながら

The Send-off

Down the close, darkening lanes they sang their way
To the siding-shed,
And lined the train with faces grimly gay.

Their breasts were stuck all white with wreath and spray
As men's are, dead.

Dull porters watched them, and a casual tramp
Stood staring hard,
Sorry to miss them from the upland camp.
Then, unmoved, signals nodded, and a lamp
Winked to the guard.

So secretly, like wrongs hushed-up, they went.
They were not ours:
We never heard to which front these were sent.

Shall they return to beatings of great bells
In wild trainloads?
A few, a few, too few for drums and yells,
May creep back, silent, to still village wells
Up half-known roads.

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