One of the
poets who impressed me deeper than most others was Siegfried Sassoon. Most of
his writings are about war, and I really hate that topic. What I read from his
poems really gave me the creeps and it set my imagination flaring, alas, in the
wrong direction, because I got nightmares from reading his poems. Nevertheless,
for me, he is among the greatest, though I cannot stand what he writes about,
he really left an impression. If it is easy to scare you, maybe you should wait for another poem, I am going to put here, because most of the ones I like are about love.
The Dug-
Out
Why do you
lie with your legs ungainly huddled,
And one arm bent across your sullen, cold,
Exhausted face? It hurts my heart to watch you,
Deep-shadowed from the candle's guttering gold;
And you wonder why I shake you by the shoulder;
Drowsy, you mumble and sigh and turn your head...
You are too young to fall asleep for ever;
And when you sleep you remind me of the dead.
And one arm bent across your sullen, cold,
Exhausted face? It hurts my heart to watch you,
Deep-shadowed from the candle's guttering gold;
And you wonder why I shake you by the shoulder;
Drowsy, you mumble and sigh and turn your head...
You are too young to fall asleep for ever;
And when you sleep you remind me of the dead.
St Venant,
Jul 1918
and the inevitable Shakespeare, I know it is a rather drastic change of subjects, but it makes me depressive if there is only a morbid poem in my list to start with. Usually poetry is something that helps to cheer me up.
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
and the inevitable Shakespeare, I know it is a rather drastic change of subjects, but it makes me depressive if there is only a morbid poem in my list to start with. Usually poetry is something that helps to cheer me up.
SONNET 116
Let me not to the marriage of true mindsAdmit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
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