An old spaniard separated by civil war from his only friends

Tired of war,

Tired of life,

Tired of worries,

Sick of generals and spies.

Why should I care?

Nobody cares for me.

Here they come again—

"I should move, sir"

"There're trucks up there.

"Why? Why? Why?

I want to rest.

My goats will die.

Why shouldn't I?

Will the birds fly?

More likely they'll die.

Oh, I'm tired of war,

I'm tired of life.

"Please, sir."

"Barcelona's New.

"It's Easter Sunday—

I won't see Monday.

I've come far enough

,I don't want to move.

They've taken my town.

They've taken my life,

There's nothing left

Except struggle and theft.

Easter Sunday—Morn!

Who will mourn for me

Save the cat?

And cats can take care.

Nicholas Boon