But like love
the archers
are blind
Upon the green night,
the piercing saetas
leave traces of warm
lily.
The keel of the moon
breaks through purple clouds
and their quivers
fill with dew.
Ay, but like love
the archers
are blind!
Animal Farm at 80: George Orwell’s enduring commitment to socialist revolution
Glenn Burgess , University of Hull During the early years of the second world war, George Orwell believed that England’s revolutionary mom...
