this diary is dedicated to all who suffer because of war
we love and support our troops, just as we love and support the Iraqi people – without exception, or precondition, or judgment
we have no sympathy for the devil
we acknowledge the power to act that is in us
cross-posted at MyLeftWing, BooMan Tribune, and my blog.
image and poem below the fold
Charlotte Freeman, widow of Army Capt. Brian Freeman responds to questions during a news interview Tuesday, Feb. 27, 2007 in the Queens borough of New York. Captain Freeman was able to arrange for Ali’s surgery, an 11-year-old Iraqi boy, through the Gift of Life International Charity. Ali is recuperating after an operation at Schneider’s Children’s Hospital – to repair a hole in his heart.
(AP Photo/Frank Franklin II)
Remembrance
by Emily Brontë
Cold in the earth–and the deep snow piled above thee,
Far, far removed, cold in the dreary grave!
Have I forgot, my only Love, to love thee,
Severed at last by Time’s all-severing wave?
Now, when alone, do my thoughts no longer hover
Over the mountains, on that northern shore,
Resting their wings where heath and fern leaves cover
Thy noble heart forever, ever more?
Cold in the earth–and fifteen wild Decembers,
From those brown hills, have melted into spring;
Faithful, indeed, is the spirit that remembers
After such years of change and suffering!
Sweet Love of youth, forgive, if I forget thee,
While the world’s tide is bearing me along;
Other desires and other hopes beset me,
Hopes which obscure, but cannot do thee wrong!
No later light has lightened up my heaven,
No second morn has ever shone for me;
All my life’s bliss from thy dear life was given,
All my life’s bliss is in the grave with thee.
But, when the days of golden dreams had perished,
And even Despair was powerless to destroy,
Then did I learn how existence could be cherished,
Strengthened, and fed without the aid of joy.
Then did I check the tears of useless passion–
Weaned my young soul from yearning after thine;
Sternly denied its burning wish to hasten
Down to that tomb already more than mine.
And, even yet, I dare not let it languish,
Dare not indulge in memory’s rapturous pain;
Once drinking deep of that divinest anguish,
How could I seek the empty world again?
– – –
Read more about Capt. Brian Freeman here.
An account of Ali’s hospitalization and treatment is here.
– – –
FAIR USE NOTICE: This essay contains images and excerpts the use of which have not been pre-authorized. This material is made available for the purpose of analysis and critique, as well as to advance the understanding of political, media, and cultural issues.
The ‘fair use’ of such material is provided for under U.S. Copyright Law. In accordance with U.S. Code Title 17, Section 107, material in this essay (along with attributions to original sources) is viewable for educational and intellectual purposes. Anyone interested in using any copyrighted material from this essay for any reason that goes beyond ‘fair use’ must first obtain permission from the copyright owner.
