by Clyde Hamilton
The ANZAC day march was over - the old Digger had done his best.
His body ached from marching - it was time to sit and rest.
He made his way to a park bench and sat with lowered head.
A young boy passing saw him - approached and politely said,
"Please sir do you mind if I ask you what the medalsyou wear are for?
Did you get them for being a hero, when fighting in awar?"
Startled, the old Digger moved over and beckoned the boy to sit.
Eagerly the lad accepted - he had not expected this!
"First of all I was not a hero," said the old Digger in solemn tone,
"But I served with many heroes, the once that never came home.
So when you talk of heroes, it's important to understand,
the greatest of all heroes gave their lives defending this land
"The medals are worn in their honor, as a symbol of respect.
All diggers wear them on ANZAC Day - it shows they don't forget."
The old digger then climbed to his feet and asked the boy to stand.
Carefully he removed the medals and placed them in his hand.
He told him he could keep them - to treasure throughout his life,
a legacy of a kind - left behind -paid for in sacrifice.
Overwhelmed the young boy was speechless - he couldn't find words to say.
It was there the old Digger left him - going quietly on hisway.
In the distance the young boy glimpsed him - saw him turn and wave goodbye.
Saddened he sat alone on the bench - tears welled in hiseyes.
He never saw him ever - but still remembers with pride,
when the old Digger told him of Heroes and a young boy sat and cried.
（註：這是壹篇來自澳大利亞詩人的詩歌，ANZAC Day,是紀念那些為保衛澳大利亞死去的士兵的節日， Digger:老戰士）
第2篇：
To the RAF (RAF: Reyal armed forces)
by Alfred Noyes
Never since English ships went out
To singe the beard of Spain
Or English sea-dogs hunted death
Along the Spanish Main,
Never since Drake and Raleigh won
Our freedom of the seas,
Have sons of Britain dared and done
More valiantly than these.
Whether at midnight or at noon,
Through mist or open sky,
Eagles of freedom, all our hearts
Are up with you on high;
While Britain's mighty ghosts look down
From realms beyond the sun
And whisper, as their record pales,
Their breathless, deep, Well Done!
第3 首
The soldier
by Rupert Brooke
if I should die, think only this on me:
That there's some corner of a foreign field
that is forever England.there shall be
in that rich earth a richer dust concealed;
a dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware,
gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam;
a body of England’s, breathing English air
washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home,
and think, this heart, all evil shed away,
a pulse in the eternal mind, no less
gives somewhere back the thoughts by England given;
her sights and sounds; dreams happy as her day;
and laughter, learnt of friends; and gentleness,
in hearts at peace, under an English heaven.