My old aunt she used to gossip
‘Mid slums and dreams awry
The poverty a blanket
Draped against the sky
She watched the toffs a-promenade
In mothball sweating Best
Auntie couldn’t help but laugh
At such strained and false finesse
Did they giggle much in wartime?
Well I think they had a good time
Stifling a laugh at Edwardian sideburns
And a woman’s hat if it was daft
My uncle had his head removed
In June of ‘44
Gold Beach so near yet so far from home
He wasn’t laughing any more
And auntie did not know, of course
Too busy with munitions and gin
And laughing at the old Duchess
Whose chapeau drooped to her hairy chin
Did they giggle much in wartime?
Well I think they had a good time
Stifling a laugh at Edwardian sideburns
And a woman’s hat if it was daft
Her hat was daft
But auntie was oblivious
She was giggling
At Mrs Jaunty and ridiculous
On a steel- grey Sunday morning
Before the telegram came.
It had feathers sticking out
Fluttering on the fishy breeze
All moth-eaten and worn.
Colours fade, as Empires jade.
Her hat was daft
Auntie was oblivious
As the gulls cried overhead
Like laughing hyenas
On that distant Sunday morning
When death was just a word,
far away,
but on the march.
Did they giggle much in wartime?
Well I think they had a good time
Stifling a laugh at Edwardian sideburns
And a woman’s hat if it was daft.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem