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Sat Nov 10, 2018, 09:23 PM

Siegfried Sassoon 100 years ago

At dawn the ridge emerges massed and dun
In the wild purple of the glow'ring sun,
Smouldering through spouts of drifting smoke that shroud
The menacing scarred slope; and, one by one,
Tanks creep and topple forward to the wire.
The barrage roars and lifts. Then, clumsily bowed
With bombs and guns and shovels and battle-gear,
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 Jesus, make it stop!

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Reply Siegfried Sassoon 100 years ago (Original post)
cyclonefence Nov 2018 OP
libdem4life Nov 2018 #1
raccoon Nov 2018 #2

Response to cyclonefence (Original post)

Sat Nov 10, 2018, 09:33 PM

1. Words escape me leaving tears.

 

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Response to cyclonefence (Original post)

Sat Nov 10, 2018, 09:34 PM

2. World War I was a horrible war, but a lot of good poetry

Came out of it.

Of course, I donít know of any war that isnít/wasnít horrible.

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