Among the red guns,
In the hearts of soldiers
Running free blood
In the long, long campaign:
Dreams go on.
Among the leather saddles,
In the heads of soldiers
Heavy in the wracks and kills
Of all straight fighting:
Dreams go on.
Among the hot muzzles,
In the hands of soldiers
Brought from flesh-folds of women--
Soft amid the blood and crying--
In all your hearts and heads
Among the guns and saddles and muzzles:
Dreams,
Dreams go on,
Out of the dead on their backs,
Broken and no use any more:
Dreams of the way and the end go on.
Soldiers have no choice they must march as the leaders of their countries dictate. Their own dreams no longer matter.
Soldiers have no choice they must march as the leaders of their countries dictate. Their own dreams no longer matter.
hmmm....this one just didn't do it for me. I'm not sure why, the imagery was sharp, but not really paralyzing. Given the potential of the subject, I don't think it plumbed the depths of pathos as deeply as it might. Poignant, yes.
amid the blood and crying- In all your hearts and heads Among the guns and saddles and muzzles: / Very poignant poem reflecting horrors and futility of wars. Thanks that the poet has voiced the concerns of people the world over.
excellent! It's the respected dedication all the soldiers of all time.
i like this poem it in a way talks about me and my gang life i march with red guns and red ones we are bloods and we keep the red up
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Soldiers have no choice they must march as the leaders of their countries dictate. Their own dreams no longer matter.