How to die
Dark clouds are smouldering into red
While down the craters morning burns.
The dying soldier shifts his head
To watch the glory that returns;
He lifts his fingers toward the skies
Where holy brightness breaks in flame;
Radiance reflected in his eyes,
And on his lips a whispered name(...)
While down the craters morning burns.
The dying soldier shifts his head
To watch the glory that returns;
He lifts his fingers toward the skies
Where holy brightness breaks in flame;
Radiance reflected in his eyes,
And on his lips a whispered name(...)
Siegfried Sassoon
(1886-1967)
World War I Poetry
(1886-1967)
World War I Poetry
Comentários
Uma glória romântica, talvez. De quem só viu a guerra e não viveu.
Abraços !!