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War broke: and now the Winter of the world With perishing great darkness closes in. The foul tornado, centred at Berlin, Is over all the width of Europe whirled,…
Wilfred Owen (1893-1918) was an English poet and soldier who is widely regarded as one of the most important literary figures of World War I. Owen was born in Oswestry, England, and he attended school at Shrewsbury Technical School before working as a lay assistant to the vicar of Dunsden. He enlisted in the British Army in 1915 and was sent to the Western Front, where he saw active service in the trenches. Throughout his time in the army, Owen continued to write poetry, and his work was heavily influenced by his experiences of war and the suffering he witnessed. His poetry is known for its stark realism, its emotional intensity, and its condemnation of the horrors of war. Some of Owen's most famous poems include "Anthem for Doomed Youth," "Dulce et Decorum Est," and "Strange Meeting." His work was published posthumously after he was killed in action in France in November 1918, just one week before the Armistice that ended the war. Today, Owen's poetry is widely studied and admired for its powerful and moving depiction of the realities of war, and he is remembered as a significant voice in the literature of the First World War.
Wilfred Owen şiirleri
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Seeing we never found gay fairyland (Though still we crouched by bluebells moon by moon) And missed the tide of Lethe; yet are soon For that new bridge that leaves old Styx half-sp…
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Not one corner of a foreign field But a span as wide as Europe; An appearance of a titan's grave, And the length thereof a thousand miles,…
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So neck to stubborn neck, and obstinate knee to knee, Wrestled those two; and peerless Heracles Could not prevail, nor get at any vantage… So those huge hands that, small, had snap…
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What passing-bells for these who die as cattle? Only the monstrous anger of the guns. Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle Can patter out their hasty orisons.…
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Some little while ago, I had a mood When what we know as 'Nature' seemed to me So sympathetic, ample, sweet, and good That I preferred it to Society.…
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I, too, saw God through mud-- The mud that cracked on cheeks when wretches smiled. War brought more glory to their eyes than blood, And gave their laughs more glee than shakes a ch…
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1 Let the boy try along this bayonet-blade 2 How cold steel is, and keen with hunger of blood; 3 Blue with all malice, like a madman's flash; 4 And thinly drawn with famishing for…
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As bronze may be much beautified By lying in the dark damp soil, So men who fade in dust of warfare fade Fairer, and sorrow blooms their soul.…
As bronze may be much beautified By lying in the dark damp soil, So men who fade in dust of warfare fade Fairer, and sorrow blooms their soul.…
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Under his helmet, up against his pack, After so many days of work and waking, Sleep took him by the brow and laid him back.…
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One ever hangs where shelled roads part. In this war He too lost a limb, But His disciples hide apart; And now the Soldiers bear with Him.…
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(Being the philosophy of many Soldiers.) Sit on the bed; I'm blind, and three parts shell,…
Sit on the bed. I'm blind, and three parts shell. Be careful; can't shake hands now; never shall. Both arms have mutinied against me,-brutes. My fingers fidget like ten idle brats.…
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The beautiful, the fair, the elegant, Is that which pleases us, says Kant, Without a thought of interest or advantage.…
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