Time future, has no image in space,
Crooked as the road that we must tread,
Straight as our bullets fly ahead.
Here, the narrator comments on the abstract idea of the future. He suggests that the future, as it has yet to happen, does not garner a place in time or space. It is purely theoretical. He also refers to the road to the future as “crooked.” This likely refers to the fact that the future can always change and does always change. There is no singular, straight road will guide us into the future. Rather, our path is always uncertain and ever-changing. In this way, the road to the future is crooked and undefine one that is in a state of perpetual uncertainty. Despite this crooked path, the one thing is certain—or straight, as the narrator describes it—is the fact that we are hurtling closer and closer to the future every moment. In this way, the path forward is not crooked at all, because we are in a perpetual state of moving forward. Cornford juxtaposes these two metaphors to suggest that, though our future may be uncertain, we have no choice but to move forward in time and face it. Like bullets, we fly ever and ever closer to our destination.
And if bad luck should lay my strength
Into the shallow grave,
Remember all the good you can;
Don't forget my love.
In this concluding stanza, the narrator—supposedly a variation of author John Cornford himself—pleads with his girlfriend to remember him, in the event that he should die. Here, the narrator tells his love that it’s very possible that bad luck may lay his strength into a shallow grave. Here, the narrator comments on the frailty of wartime and the battlefront. He suggests that it is not strategy that saves a solider, but sheer dumb luck. His reference to a shallow grave suggests that the narrator is in the thick of the battle; his death will not be mourned, nor commemorated. Rather, he will be shallowly buried so that the battle might carry on. The narrator concludes by urging his love to remember all the good she can, without forgetting his live. In this way, this poem can be perceived as a “final letter.” The narrator is continuing under the assumption that he will not return home to his girlfriend. He wants to ensure that his legacy and their love lives on through her—even after his death.
Nothing is ever born without screaming and blood.
Understand the weapon, understand the wound […]
In this quotation, Cornford speaks to the inherent violence and ferocity of humankind. Cornford notes that even birth—the beautiful, miracle of life—is not absent of this violence and anguish. The narrator of this poem is commenting on the fact that humans are an inherently violent species. We murder and torture other humans. Cornford points this out to comment on Sergei Kirov’s death. He points out that Kirov’s death was inevitable because most humans are bloodthirsty creatures. In this way, this quotation highlights the point that no progress can be made without bloodshed and death. In order to wield a weapon of violence, we must be aware of its repercussions.
Heart of the heartless world,
Dear heart, the thought of you Is the pain at my side,
The shadow that chills my view.
In this poem, the narrator is composing his “final letter”—a letter to his love, in the event that he should be killed whilst fighting on the battlefront. In these opening lines, the narrator addresses his girlfriend directly. He tells her that she is the heart in the heartless world. He also tells her that the thought of her is a pain in his side, one which chills his view. At first, this may appear to be a heartless admission—one that suggests the narrator does not love the woman. A closer examination, however, reveals that the narrator loves her so much that the very thought of her causes him pain. The narrator calls his love for the woman a “pain at [his] side” because it is this love that allows him to have something to fight for. He’s in a terrible position because the more he fights, the more likely it is that he will be killed in the line of duty. The woman chills his view because—if it weren’t for her—he would have no problem dying on the battlefront; he would gladly sacrifice his life for the war. Now that he has someone to love, someone to wait home for him, the fear of death is agonizing and overwhelming. In this way, the woman and their love is a pain because his absence makes their separation even more acute. His love is so great that he does not wish to die, but wishes to be home with her.
