Wilfred Owen

(1893-1918 / Shropshire / England)

Training - Poem by Wilfred Owen

Not this week nor this month dare I lie down
In languour under lime trees or smooth smile.
Love must not kiss my face pale that is brown.

My lips, parting, shall drink space, mile by mile;
Strong meats be all my hunger; my renown
Be the clean beauty of speed and pride of style.

Cold winds encountered on the racing Down
Shall thrill my heated bareness; but awhile
None else may meet me till I wear my crown.

Comments about Training by Wilfred Owen

There is no comment submitted by members..

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Read poems about / on: pride, kiss, smile, beauty, love, tree, wind

Poem Submitted: Friday, January 3, 2003

[Hata Bildir]