http://letter.ie/0027/0006.html
Here is a letter written durring World War 1
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Wilfred Owen (1893-1918)
"Anthem for a Doomed Youth"
What passing-bells for these who die as cattle?--Only the monstrous anger of the guns. Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattleCan patter out their hasty orisons.No mockeries for them from prayers or bells, Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs,-The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells; And bugles calling for them from sad shires.
What candles may be held to speed them all? Not in the hands of boys, but in their eyesShall shine the holy glimmers of goodbyes. The pallor of girls' brows shall be their pall;Their flowers the tenderness of silent minds,And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds.
"Anthem for a Doomed Youth"
What passing-bells for these who die as cattle?--Only the monstrous anger of the guns. Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattleCan patter out their hasty orisons.No mockeries for them from prayers or bells, Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs,-The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells; And bugles calling for them from sad shires.
What candles may be held to speed them all? Not in the hands of boys, but in their eyesShall shine the holy glimmers of goodbyes. The pallor of girls' brows shall be their pall;Their flowers the tenderness of silent minds,And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds.
Herbert Read (1893-1968)
"The Happy Warrior"
His wild heart beats with painful sobs,His strin'd hands clench an ice-cold rifle,His aching jaws grip a hot parch'd tongue,His wide eyes search unconsciously.
He cannot shriek.
Bloody salivaDribbles down his shapeless jacket.
I saw him stabAnd stab againA well-killed Boche.
This is the happy warrior,This is he...
"The Happy Warrior"
His wild heart beats with painful sobs,His strin'd hands clench an ice-cold rifle,His aching jaws grip a hot parch'd tongue,His wide eyes search unconsciously.
He cannot shriek.
Bloody salivaDribbles down his shapeless jacket.
I saw him stabAnd stab againA well-killed Boche.
This is the happy warrior,This is he...
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