1914 V: The Soldier
If I should die, think only this of me:
That there's some corner of a foreign field
That is for ever England. There shall be
In that rich earth a richer dust concealed;
A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware,
Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam,
A body of England's, breathing English air,
Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home.
And think, this heart, all evil shed away,
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poemI am from India I love your poems and this poem was very very nice
One of the best war poems. Thank you. Soldier know the value of home in the mist of war.
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7/17/2021 11:02:35 AM # 1.0.0.662
.........Terry.............