Kanlı Madalya
Stephen CraneKanlı Madalya Gönderileri
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... ümit vermeyen, kör bir hücuma kalkmıştı.
Sızlanmak, kusur aramak, talihsizlere yaraşan bir iştir.
Bir askerin sırtına düşman süngüsü dayanmadıkça ötesi vız gelir.
Sanki, savaşın sonucunu kendileri belirleyecekmiş gibi bir halleri vardı. Bu boğuşmaya katılan Zavallı askerlerin hepsi kazanılan başarıdan dolayı, isimlerinin, vatandaşlarının kalbinde sonsuza dek yer edeceğine inanmıştı. Gerçekte ise, bu olay, gazetelerin ancak iç sayfalarında küçük puntolu harflerle geçiştiriliverecekti.
To the youth, the fighters seemed like animals thrown for a death struggle into a dark hole.
War, the red animal—war, the blooddrinking god—would have what it wanted.
In this place the youth felt that he was an outsider. This forgot ten part of the battleground was owned by the dead men, and he hur ried with the crazy fear that one of the bloody forms would rise and tell him to go.
The sound of death was far away. It seemed now that Nature had no ears. The scene gave him assurance. This was a place holding life. It was the religion of peace. It would die if its calm eyes were compelled to see the blood. He believed Nature to be a woman with a deep unwillingness to see suffering.
He was crushed beneath the feet of an iron injustice. He had proceeded with wisdom and sense, only to be defeated by hateful circumstances.
A dull, animallike revolt against his companions, against war, against fate, grew within him. He walked along with his head down, his brain suffering and full of despair.
Indifference of Nature
As he gazed around him, the youth felt a flash of surprise at the blue, pure sky and the sun shining on the trees and fields. It was wonderful that Nature had gone quietly ahead with her golden process in the middle of so much devilment.