Poem by Rudyard Kipling

«Barrack-Room Ballads». 53. Half-Ballade of Waterval. Non-Commissioned Officers in Charge of Prisoners

When by the labour of my ’ands
    I’ve ’elped to pack a transport tight
With prisoners for foreign lands,
    I ain’t transported with delight.
    I know it’s only just an’ right,
        But yet it somehow sickens me,
For I ’ave learned at Waterval1
        The meanin’ of captivity. 
Be’ind the pegged barb-wire strands,
    Beneath the tall electric light,
Weused to walk in bare-’ead bands,
    Explainin’ ’ow we lost our fight;
    An’ that is what they’ll do to-night
        Upon the steamer out at sea,
If I ’ave learned at Waterval
        The meanin’ of captivity. 
They’ll never know the shame that brands—
    Black shame no livin’ down makes white—
The mockin’ from the sentry-stands,
    The women’s laugh, the gaoler’s spite.
    We are too bloomin’-much polite,
        But that is ’ow I’d ’ave us be...
Since I ’ave learned at Waterval
        The meanin’ of captivity. 
They’ll get those draggin’ days all right,
    Spent as a foreigner commands,
An’ ’orrors of the locked-up night,
    With ’Ell’s own thinkin’ on their ’ands.
    I’d give the gold o’ twenty Rands
        (If it was mine) to set ’em free
For I ’ave learned at Waterval
        The meanin’ of captivity! 

1. The First Chantey
2. The Cursing of Stephen
3. Darzee's Chaunt
4. Tarrant Moss
5. «Limits and Renewals». 1932. 16. Song of Seventy Horses

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