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19 de jun. de 2024 · Haunted. Evening was in the wood, louring with storm. And baked the channels; birds had done with song. Leisurely sliding on by weir and mill. His face a little whiter than the dusk. A drone of sultry wings flicker'd in his head. But stood, the sweat of horror on his face. In sudden race to leave the ghostly trees.
19 de jun. de 2024 · Aftermath. Have you forgotten yet?…. Taking your peaceful share of Time, with joy to spare. But the past is just the same-and War's a bloody game …. Have you forgotten yet?…. Look down, and swear by the slain of the War that you'll never forget. The nights you watched and wired and dug and piled sandbags on parapets?
13 de jun. de 2024 · Men jostle and climb to meet the bristling fire. Lines of grey, muttering faces, masked with fear, They leave their trenches, going over the top, While time ticks blank and busy on their wrists, And hope, with furtive eyes and grappling fists, Flounders in mud. O Jesu, make it stop! Siegfried Sassoon. Rate:
11 de jun. de 2024 · I'd heard fool-heroes brag of where they'd been, With stories of the glories that they'd seen. But you, good simple soldier, seasoned well In woods and posts and crater-lines of hell, Who dodge remembered 'crumps' with wry grimace, Endured experience in your queer, kind face, Fatigues and vigils haunting nerve-strained eyes, And both your brothers killed to make you wise; You had no babbling ...
29 de may. de 2024 · The Redeemer. Darkness; the distant wink of a huge gun. Floundering in mirk. He stood before me there; Of mortal pain in Hell's unholy shine. And dawn a watching of the windowed sky. That Lancaster on Lune may stand secure. Shouldering his load of planks, so hard to bear.
18 de jun. de 2024 · Glory Of Women. You love us when we're heroes, home on leave, Or wounded in a mentionable place. You worship decorations; you believe. That chivalry redeems the war 's disgrace. You make us shells. You listen with delight, By tales of dirt and danger fondly thrilled. You crown our distant ardours while we fight,
14 de jun. de 2024 · Banishment. I am banished from the patient men who fight. They smote my heart to pity, built my pride. They trudged away from life 's broad wealds of light. They went arrayed in honour. But they died,-. To those who sent them out into the night. By grappling guns. Love drove me to rebel.
