It is the horse's belly; its rigid leg obliquely bars the narrow circle from which my eyes cannot escape.

Ah, it is dead! It seems to me that my breast is empty, yet still there is an echo in my heart.

What I am looking for is life.
The distant sky is resonant, and each dull shot comes and pushes my shoulder.

Nearer, some shells are thundering heavily.

Though I cannot see them, I see the tawny reflection that their flame spreads abroad, and the sudden darkness as well that is hurled by their clouds of excretion.