“Rasterick R made a brisk 35”
on a damp shard of paper, 
found in a drawer -
with the date on the top
(12th of September 1904) 
So who were you then, Mr Rasterick R? 
And did you enjoy a good tea between innings, 
On the Green by the sea? 
And going to war
To die or survive
Did you ever remember that brisk 35? 
Rasterick R: this is all that is left
But I throw you away
With the rubbish
In a box that I marked ‘Yesterday’.
While outside my window I hear a dove call
And, down in the valley, one answers back
From a tree by the side of the Cricket  Club hall.                
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem