Poem by Isaac Rosenberg

The Immortals

I killed them, but they would not die.
Yea, all the day and all the night
For them I could not rest nor sleep,
Nor guard from them nor hide in flight!

Then in my agony I turned
And made my hands red in their gore.
In vain—for faster than I slew
They rose more cruel than before.

I killed and killed with slaughter mad;
I killed till all my strength was gone;
And still they rose to torture me,
For Devils only die for fun.

I used to think the Devil hid
In women's smiles and wine's carouse;
I called him Satan, Balzebub;
But now I call him dirty louse. 

1. The Dead Heroes
2. The Dying Soldier
3. Soldier: Twentieth Century
4. The Song of Tel the Nubian
5. Returning, We Hear the Larks

Dorothy Parker The Immortals ("If you should sail for Trebizond, or die")

Print

1580 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version