Selected War Poetry
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The Soldier(WWI)
If I should die, think only this of me:
That there's some corner of a foreign field
That is for ever England. There shall be
In that rich earth a richer dust concealed;
A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware,
Gave once her flowers to love, her ways to roam,
A body of England's, breathing English air,
Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home.
And think this heart, all evil shed away,
A pulse in the eternal mind, no less
Gives somewhere back the thoughts by England given;
Her sights and sounds; dreams happy as her day;
And laughter, learnt of friends; and gentleness,
In hearts at peace, under an English heaven.
Rupert Brooke
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Anyone can find more interesting war poetry?The Gulf War?Operation Iraqi Freedom? -
The most famous one of all!!
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
-John McCrae, December 8, 1915 -
Hi, just to say hello! Just joined the forum today.
War poetry is always great to read, in my opinion.
hehheh, fun signature, LazerLordz! -
Originally posted by dsnake1:Hi, just to say hello! Just joined the forum today.
War poetry is always great to read, in my opinion.
hehheh, fun signature, LazerLordz!
Thanks a lot -
hello, why so quiet on the war front?
how about this one by Wilfred Owen, considered the best war poet in the english language:
Dulce et Decorum Est
===============
Bent double, like old beggars under sacks
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags,we cursed through
sludge
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots.
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame, all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
of tired, outstripped Five-Nines that dropped behind
Gas! GAS! Quick boys! - An ecstasy of fumbling.
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time;
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling
And flound'ring like a man in fire or lime ...
Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light,
As under a green sea I saw him drowning.
In all my dreams, before my helpless sight.
He plunges at me, guttering, choking drowning.
If in some smothering dreams you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in.
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face.
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin;
If you could hear , at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues, --
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie : Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori
-----------------
how? very chim? -
Are you a fan of Wilfred Owen? I am a fan of him too.Originally posted by dsnake1:hello, why so quiet on the war front?
how about this one by Wilfred Owen, considered the best war poet in the english language:
Dulce et Decorum Est
===============
Bent double, like old beggars under sacks
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags,we cursed through
sludge
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots.
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame, all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
of tired, outstripped Five-Nines that dropped behind
Gas! GAS! Quick boys! - An ecstasy of fumbling.
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time;
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling
And flound'ring like a man in fire or lime ...
Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light,
As under a green sea I saw him drowning.
In all my dreams, before my helpless sight.
He plunges at me, guttering, choking drowning.
If in some smothering dreams you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in.
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face.
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin;
If you could hear , at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues, --
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie : Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori
-----------------
how? very chim?
Check out this thread. -
Are you a fan of Wilfred Owen? I am a fan of him too.
yah, DP , u can say that. His poems are so vivid, as if u were there yourself. Such a waste , killed a week before the War ends, and only 25 yrs old.
Check out this thread. -
Hi DP, thankx for the thread.
What, no Dulce in your Salute? But i think Owen's best poem is Anthem for Doomed youth. -
Quite a few poets died at very young age.Originally posted by dsnake1:yah, DP , u can say that. His poems are so vivid, as if u were there yourself. Such a waste , killed a week before the War ends, and only 25 yrs old.
-
Read somewhere that poets died younger than novelists, playwrights, and other writers. Some researcher actually collected and analysed such stats.Originally posted by DeadPoet:Quite a few poets died at very young age.
I am not giving u the link!
Scary or not?
-
Give me the link lah, don't be so niao leh.Originally posted by dsnake1:Read somewhere that poets died younger than novelists, playwrights, and other writers. Some researcher actually collected and analysed such stats.
I am not giving u the link!
Scary or not?
Wait
Can it be found in your homepage? -
I send u PM.Originally posted by DeadPoet:Give me the link lah, don't be so niao leh.
Wait
Can it be found in your homepage? -
"For poems are not, as people think, simply emotions (one has emotions early enough) - they are experiences."
-- Rainer Maria Rilke (1875 - 1926), Czech poet.
OMG, look at the time, early shift tom., dsnake1 out. -
Hey LazerLordz, u may be interested in this :
http://www.vietvet.org/swb.htm
the sound of whirling blades, war poems abt Vietnam by a vet.