Poetry Information

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

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

This mad-dog Sergeant Rook.

With the face of bulldog

And a deadly stare
I swear he was three hundred

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

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

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

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

Màs el no se cayò como esperaba.
Este Sargento yo, apenas lo conocía ?

No había ningún hombre, que podría golpear

Este oso de un brut,
En nuestra compañía, o por allí
Entonces le di patadas en la ingle

Otra vez-
¡Y de todos modos él no gritó!

Y tal era yo, como él miró

En mí
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 tenía trescientas

Torcí mi 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 moví un poco
de un lado al otro
Como él se balanceó como un árbol en una tormenta
Agarrando el lado de la choza

Ambos sabíamos, no quisimos más.

En ecos él maldijo locuras-

Como su compañero lo alentó
Pero para él y para mi el juego había 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

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