Tired with dull grief, grown old before my day, I sit in solitude and only hear Long silent laughters, murmurings of dismay, The lost intensities of hope and fear; In those old marshes yet the rifles lie.
Where there was a marsh then inUnug, it was full ofwater. Where there was any dry land,Euphratespoplars grew there. Where there werereed thickets, old reeds and young reeds grew there.