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When consciousness came back, he found he lay Between the opposing fires, but could not tell On which hand were his friends; and either way For him to turn was chancy--bullet and s…
Wilfred Wilson Gibson (1878-1962), a close friend of Rupert Brooke and a protégé of Edward Marsh, was born in Hexham, England in 1878. Gibson worked for a time as a social worker in London's East End. He published his first verse in 1902, Mountain Lovers. He had several poems included in various Georgian poetry collections prior to the war. He also wrote a play, Daily Bread, which was produced in 1910. After the outbreak of war, Gibson served as a private in the infantry on the Western Front. It was therefore from the perspective of the ordinary soldier that Gibson wrote his war poetry. His active service was brief, but his poetry belies his lack of experience, Breakfast being a prime example of ironic war verse written during the very early stages of the conflict. Following the armistice, Gibson continued writing poetry and plays. His work was particularly concerned with the poverty of industrial workers and village labourers. Collected Poems: 1905-1925 was published in 1926, The Island Stag in 1927, and Within Four Walls in 1950. Wilfred Wilson Gibson died in 1962.)
Wilfrid Wilson Gibson şiirleri
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We ate our breakfast lying on our backs, Because the shells were screeching overhead. I bet a rasher to a loaf of bread That Hull United would beat Halifax…
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A HANDFUL of cherries She gave me in passing, The wizened old woman, And wished me good luck-…
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Black spars of driftwood burn to peacock flames, Sea-emeralds and sea-purples and sea-blues, And all the innumerable ever-changing hues That haunt the changeless deeps but have no…
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So long had I travelled the lonely road, Though, now and again, a wayfairing friend Walked shoulder to shoulder, and lightened the load, I often would think to myself as I strode,…
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1 Troopship (s.s. Baltic: Mid-Atlantic: July, 1917) Dark waters into crystalline brilliance break…
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Only the footprints of the partridge run Over the billowy drifts on the mountain-side; And now on level wings the brown birds glide Following the snowy curves, and in the sun…
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Broken, bewildered by the long retreat Across the stifling leagues of southern plain, Across the scorching leagues of trampled grain, Half-stunned, half-blinded, by the trudge of f…
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Still bathed in its moonlight slumber, the little white house by the cedar Stands silent against the red dawn; And nothing I know of who sleeps there, to the travail of day yet unw…
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And since he rowed his father home, His hand has never touched an oar. All day he wanders on the shore, And hearkens to the swishing foam.…
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In smoky lamplight of a Smyrna Café, He saw them, seven solemn negroes dancing, With faces rapt and out-thrust bellies prancing In a slow solemn ceremonial cakewalk,…
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Indifferent, flippant, earnest, but all bored, The doctors sit in the glare of electric light Watching the endless stream of naked white Bodies of men for whom their hasty award…
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The biggest crane on earth, it lifts Two hundred ton more easily Than I can lift my heavy head: And when it swings, the whole world shifts,…
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When we were building Skua Light-- The first men who had lived a night Upon that deep-sea Isle-- As soon as chisel touched the stone,…
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The Lonely Road So long had I travelled the lonely road, Though, now and again, a wayfairing friend Walked shoulder to shoulder, and lightened the load,…
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