Английская поэзия


ГлавнаяБиографииСтихи по темамСлучайное стихотворениеПереводчикиСсылки
Рейтинг поэтовРейтинг стихотворений

Wilfred Owen (Уилфред Оуэн)


* * *


Cramped in that funnelled hole, they watched the dawn
Open a jagged rim around; a yawn
Of death's jaws, which had all but swallowed them
Stuck in the bottom of his throat of phlegm.

They were in one of many mouths of Hell
Not seen of seers in visions, only felt
As teeth of traps; when bones and the dead are smelt
Under the mud where long ago they fell
Mixed with the sour sharp odour of the shell. 



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: 531



Последние стихотворения

Поддержать сайт

To English version


Рейтинг@Mail.ru

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