1914 Poem by Wilfred Owen


Rating: 3.2

War broke: and now the Winter of the world
With perishing great darkness closes in.
The foul tornado, centred at Berlin,
Is over all the width of Europe whirled,
Rending the sails of progress. Rent or furled
Are all Art's ensigns. Verse wails. Now begin
Famines of thought and feeling. Love's wine's thin.
The grain of human Autumn rots, down-hurled.

For after Spring had bloomed in early Greece,
And Summer blazed her glory out with Rome,
An Autumn softly fell, a harvest home,
A slow grand age, and rich with all increase.
But now, for us, wild Winter, and the need
Of sowings for new Spring, and blood for seed.

Michael Morgan 16 December 2013

It's really gross the way this smarmy poem avoids the issue of English responsibility for WW1

35 92 Reply
Manonton Dalan 16 December 2012

war is, is always dreadful far so ugly than beautiful tears is life but otherwise mangled flesh, blind eyes yet blood-thirsty ground insatiable craves crown

73 52 Reply
Kevin Straw 16 December 2009

A great prophetic poem foreshadowing T S Eliot's 'The Wasteland' and the retreat of modern art after WWI into abstraction and subjectivity. The more I read Owen the bigger he gets as a poet.

63 54 Reply
Charlene Gray 16 December 2009

love's wine's thin beautiful poem got my vote for it =)

58 56 Reply
William Sherratt 29 March 2006

For Auitumn, see The British Empire? For Winter, see Washington? For Spring see China?

44 59 Reply
bigman 02 April 2020

it sucks i am eating chicken nuggets

5 9 Reply
Shaun Cronick 01 July 2019

Genius writing and dramatic images.Brilliant,

20 0 Reply
Chicken boi 11 June 2019

Chiknkein nugeget I had a stroke writing and reading that

8 15 Reply

it sucks, it is so bad

3 28 Reply
Student lol 29 January 2019

I had to do this poem for a project

17 4 Reply
Wilfred Owen

Wilfred Owen

Shropshire / England
Error Success