Ernest Hemingway (21 July 1899 - 2 July 1961 / Oak Park, Illinois)
Drummed their boots on the camion floor,
Hob-nailed boots on the camion floor.
Lieutenant thought of a Mestre whore -
Warm and soft and sleepy whore,
Cozy, warm and lovely whore;
Damned cold, bitter, rotten ride,
Winding road up the Grappa side.
Arditi on benches stiff and cold,
Pride of their country stiff and cold,
Bristly faces, dirty hides -
Infantry marches, Arditi rides.
Grey, cold, bitter, sullen ride -
To splintered pines on the Grappa side
At Asalone, where the truck-load died.
Comments about this poem (Riparto D'Assalto by Ernest Hemingway )
People who read Ernest Hemingway also read
Top 500 Poems
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
William Ernest Henley
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings