Those marble plaques in the cemetery
hold no dead beneath them
yet in the rising mists of winter evenings
when night like loose dark pebbles
fall from the sky
can be heard hooves of trotting horses
from the rows of cold white stones
and on nights favored by moon
is visible cavalry in scarlet serge
with pith helmets and carbine rifles
piercing the terror paused wind
with cries of vengeance
mirthful in washing blood with blood
on the fields of Cawnpore
dissolving into marble white stones
steeped in the peace of moonlight.
Dec 12, 2016
Dec 12, 2016 at 10:06 AM UTC
Those marble plaques in the cemetery
hold no dead beneath them
yet in the rising mists of winter evenings
when night like loose dark pebbles
fall from the sky
can be heard hooves of trotting horses
from the rows of cold white stones
and on nights favored by moon
is visible cavalry in scarlet serge
with pith helmets and carbine rifles
piercing the terror paused wind
with cries of vengeance
mirthful in washing blood with blood
on the fields of Cawnpore
dissolving into marble white stones
steeped in the peace of moonlight.
Sepoy Mutiny (1857)
On 27 June, 1857 in the town of Cawnpore (now Kanpur), India, sepoy mutineers laid siege to a British army encampment reportedly massacring British women and children.
Two days later, a company of British soldiers captured the town and extracted bloodied revenge.
This work is inspired from the time many years ago when I used to spend the evening hours alone at a cemetery in Calcutta where stand the war memorials of the British soldiers killed in the mutiny.
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