The Poems Mr. Mudie Wrote at Naoetsu POW Campsite　
AN OMEN                     April 22, 1943

To date,
The fate
Of every garden that the boys here hoed,

At Changi, Adam Park or Lornie Road,
Is such,
That much
Expense of time and sweat to grow more
food,
Was wasted, ere we left each camp for good.
So shout
This out --
Hurray! The signs are promising! Hurray!
Because we started on some beds to-day;
For here,
'Tis clear,
If only Fate pursues the well-known trend,
Before the stuff is ripe -- the war will end!
MAY IN NAOETU             April, 1943

The last of winter's snow clings
Upon the distant slopes;
But spring has brought the warmer days
 To brighten up our hopes.

The groves of trees have decked themselves
In robes of brighter sheen,
And warm spring rains have coaxed the grass
To clothe the earth with green.

The cherry-blossoms deck our way,
And, like a haunting song.
God whispers from them as we pass,
"Not long, stout hearts, not long."
 
ACTIVITY IN NAOETSU     June 24, 1943

1

Coming upstream,
Hear the chug
Of the sturdy
Little tug;
Coal from China
Gleaming salt,
Fill the barges,
Engines halt.
To the landing
Barges glide.
Planks are plonked,
Ropes are tied.
Human ants
Take a hand,
Carry cargo
On to land;
Empty barges
Go once more,
To the steamer
Off the shore.


2

Dads with many
Mouths to feed,
Take from ocean
What they need.
Catching crabs
In a wicker box,
Scraping sea-weed
Off the rocks.
Men and women
Hauling net,
Tiny fish
Is all they get.
Even children
At their play,
Catch the ones
That get away;
While off-shore
In square-sail boat,
Deep-sea fishers
Are afloat.


3 

Just across
Fields of grain,
Puffing northward
Goes a train.
Gliding smoothly
On the track,
Smoke from engine
Pluming back.
Far beyond it
Mountains rise,
Snow-veined summits
Clutch the skies.
Toot of whistle,
Cloud of white,
Hss!  Hss!  train
Moves out of sight.


4 

Women toiling
Everywhere,
Always doing
Double share.
Sometimes dragging
Heavy carts,
Human horses
Lions' hearts.
Loading timber
At the stack,
Baby always
Strapped on back.
But, when shopping,
Don for show,
Gorgeous-coloured
Kimono.


5 

Early morning,
Down the street,
Endless files
Trudging feet.
Pairs of girls,
Pairs of boys,
Air is full of
Clopping noise.
Former dumpy,
Latter, lean,
Still all dressed
In yellow-green.
Early evening,
Led by men,
Clip-clop, clip-clop
Back again.


6 

At times we go
As part P.T.
To where the pier
Juts into sea.
Route is via
Village street,
Over bridge where
Rivers meet.
Cross the railway,
Turn to right,
Soon the sea
Comes into sight.
After rest
"Get going, feet"
Down the town's
One concrete street,
Over main bridge,
Round the bend,
Camp at last
Brings run to end