Anthem for Doomed Youth
by Wilfrid Owen
What passing-bells for these who die as cattle?
Only the monstrous anger of the guns.
Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle
Can patter out their hasty orisons.
No mockeries now for them; no prayers nor bells,
Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs,—
The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells;
And bugles calling for them from sad shires.
You can read the rest of the poem here.
At Wild Rose Reader, I have three original tanka poems I wrote for Tricia’s Monday Poetry Stretch at The Miss Rumphius Effect.
The Poetry Friday Roundup is at Cuentesitos this week.
The Poetry Friday Roundup is at Cuentesitos this week.
6 comments:
Just after Easter Sunday I read a report detailing the number injured and dead from this...thing which for which I can't even find an appropriate name. "For those who die as cattle" is probably the most apt and awful phrase ever.
Tadmack,
It's so sad. I lost a good friend in the Vitenam War. I thought we had learned a lesson from that war. I guess some of our leaders forgot the human toll that war brings...all the lives that are affected by the loss of loved ones who are killed in battle in places far from home.
It doesn't matter what war it is-the outcome is always the same. It breaks my heart that Owen's poems are as relevant today as they were then.
It seems so much of what the current administration has done with its tenure has doomed our youth -- war, global warming, massive foreign debt, a shaky economy...
mme t,
I agree. This poem--and some of the other poems he wrote--are just as relevant today. That's sad.
Mary Lee,
You won't get any disagreement from me with what you've said.
What a haunting poem...
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