Robert William Service
Les Grands Mutiles - Poem by Robert William Service
I saw three wounded of the war:
And the first had lost his eyes;
And the second went on wheels and had
No legs below the thighs;
And the face of the third was featureless,
And his mouth ran cornerwise.
So I made a rhyme about each one,
And this is how my fancies run.
Comments about Les Grands Mutiles by Robert William Service
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.