It is a green hollow where a stream gurgles
Crazily catching silver rags of itself on the grasses;
Where the sun shines from the proud mountain:
It is a little valley bubbling over with light
A young soldier, open-mouthed, bare-headed
With the nape of his neck bathed in cool blue cresses
Sleeps; he is stretched out on the grass, under the sky
Pale on his green bed where the light falls like rain
His feet in the yellow flags, he lies sleeping. Smiling as
A sick child might smile, he is having a nap:
Cradle him warmly, Nature: he is cold
No odour makes his nostrils quiver;
He sleeps in the sun, his hand on his breast
At peace. There are two red holes in his right side
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