The ballad of: brawling mad-dog sergeant rook [now in: spanish and english]
English Version
A bunch of us guys in the hut
In ?Nam
Were playing cards, singing songs;
In a solo-room, back of the hut
Lay mad-dog, Sergeant Rook;
And watching from a distance
Was his sidekick, Corporal Cook.
When out of the night, he wanted
To fight
This bully of six-foot-two
Dog-drunk, smelling like a skunk
I wanted to fight him too.
He wobbled like a duck as I
Blocked his punch-
(for I was drunk too),
And I kicked him several times
I guess-
Yet he didn't fall, as expected
This Sergeant I barely knew?
There was no man, could beat
This bear of a brut,
In our company, or there about
So I kicked him in the groin
Again-
And still he didn't shout!
And such was I, as he looked
At me
Puzzled from brow to foot
He was a demon from hell I
Thought
This mad-dog Sergeant Rook.
With the face of bulldog
And a deadly stare
I swear he was three hundred
Pounds;
I twisted my body like a cobra
Jumped in the air like a bird
And when I came down
The blaze in his eyes were gone
This mad-dog Sergeant Rook!
I pierced my fingers into his flesh
Like nails and thorns-with
Ferociousness?
Then I moved from side to side
A bit
As he swayed like a tree in a storm
Clutching the side of the hut
I guess;
We both knew, we wanted no more.
In echoes he cursed insanities-
As his sidekick cheered him on
But for he and I, the game was
Over
It was back to war, in Vietnam!...
Note: 699 5/31/05
Spanish Version
La Balada de :
la Pelea del perro rabioso Sargento Rook.
Un grupo de nosotros los muchachos en la choza
En ?Nam
Jugábamos a las cartas, cantando canciones;
En un cuarto solo, atrás de la choza
Sargento Rook, Puso al perro rabioso,
Y mirando desde una distancia
Estaba su compañero, el cabo Cocinero.
Cuando hacia fuera de la noche, él quiso
Luchar
Este matón " de seis pie dos "
perro borracho, oliendo como un zorrillo
desee lucharlo también también.
Él se bamboleó como un pato asì, yo
bloquee su puñete-
(por que yo también estaba borracho),
Y le di de patadas varias veces
Prienso-
Màs el no se cayò como esperaba.
Este Sargento yo, apenas lo conocÃÂÂÂa ?
No habÃÂÂÂa ningún hombre, que podrÃÂÂÂa golpear
Este oso de un brut,
En nuestra compañÃÂÂÂa, o por allÃÂÂÂ
Entonces le di patadas en la ingle
Otra vez-
¡Y de todos modos él no gritó!
Y tal era yo, como él miró
En mÃÂÂÂ
Dejado perplejo de frente a pie
Él era un demonio del infierno
yo Pienso
Este sargento Rook perro rabioso.
Con la cara de bulldog
Y un mirada fija mortal
Juro que él tenÃÂÂÂa trescientas
Libras;
Torcàmi cuerpo como una cobra
saltè en el aire como un pajaro
Y cuando bajé
El resplandor en sus ojos se habian ido.
¡Este Sargento Rook perro rabioso!
Perforé mis dedos en su carne
Como uñas y espinas- con
Ferocidad ?
Entonces me movàun poco
de un lado al otro
Como él se balanceó como un árbol en una tormenta
Agarrando el lado de la choza
Adivino;
Ambos sabÃÂÂÂamos, no quisimos más.
En ecos él maldijo locuras-
Como su compañero lo alentó
Pero para él y para mi el juego habÃÂÂÂa acabado
¡Esto fuè tras de La guerra, en Vietnam!...
Note: 699 5/31/05
Poet/Author Dennis Siluk, produces a ballad of Vietnam, an occurance, where more truth resides than fiction. The Author lives in St. Paul, Minnesota and Lima, Peru; and was a soldier in the Vietnam war
Article Source: Messaggiamo.Com
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