Английская поэзия


ГлавнаяБиографииСтихи по темамСлучайное стихотворениеПереводчикиСсылки
Рейтинг поэтовРейтинг стихотворений

Wilfred Owen (Уилфред Оуэн)


Futility


Move him into the sun--
Gently its touch awoke him once,
At home, whispering of fields unsown.
Always it awoke him, even in France,
Until this morning and this snow.
If anything might rouse him now
The kind old sun will know.

Think how it wakes the seeds--
Woke, once, the clays of a cold star.
Are limbs so dear-achieved, are sides
Full-nerved,--still warm,--too hard to stir?
Was it for this the clay grew tall?
--O what made fatuous sunbeams toil
To break earth's sleep at all? 



Wilfred Owen's other poems:
  1. With An Identity Disc
  2. Spring Offensive
  3. A Palinode
  4. As Bronze May Be Much Beautified
  5. Roundel


Распечатать стихотворение. Poem to print Распечатать стихотворение (Poem to print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 635



Последние стихотворения

Поддержать сайт

To English version


Рейтинг@Mail.ru

Английская поэзия. Адрес для связи eng-poetry.ru@yandex.ru