Some Belated WWI Poetry

I think it's been a good several years since I posted some poetry. The commemoration of the 100th anniversary of the end of World War One seems like a good time to start. 

Here's one of the premier WWI poets - Siegfried Sassoon, who lived a pretty good long life after the end of the war.


Soldiers are citizens of death's grey land,
Drawing no dividend from time's to-morrows.   
In the great hour of destiny they stand,
Each with his feuds, and jealousies, and sorrows.   
Soldiers are sworn to action; they must win   
Some flaming, fatal climax with their lives.
Soldiers are dreamers; when the guns begin
They think of firelit homes, clean beds and wives.

I see them in foul dug-outs, gnawed by rats,
And in the ruined trenches, lashed with rain,   
Dreaming of things they did with balls and bats,
And mocked by hopeless longing to regain   
Bank-holidays, and picture shows, and spats,
And going to the office in the train.