Siegfried Sassoon

(1886 - 1967 / Kent / England)

Comments about Siegfried Sassoon

  • EVENS (3/22/2018 7:49:00 PM)

    The correct way for educated people to request that the audio be made inoperative is to write: Please can someone on this site please de-activate the audio. Thank you for your attention to this matter. I can see absolutely NO reason to be vulgar. And, incidentally, you can always turn OFF the sound at YOUR end! I personally have yet to hear the audio!

    7 person liked.
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  • Soumitra sing (3/22/2018 9:22:00 AM)

    Full poem of Siegfried Sasson

  • Jimmy (3/10/2018 10:47:00 PM)

    Lydia, what help

  • Lydia (2/3/2018 10:57:00 AM)

    Please like me! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !

  • Lydia (2/3/2018 10:53:00 AM)

    I have to do some homework on a war poet and i chose Siegfried Sassoon. But i don't know which of his poems is the most famous? Can anyone help me? ;)

  • Joseph Pedulla (12/11/2017 9:19:00 AM)

    To Marilyn: The poem that contains that line is called Memory.

  • Marilyn (11/28/2017 6:43:00 AM)

    Could anyone help me with the title of the poem which contains the line”And I am rich in all that I have lost”?

  • None of ur buisness (11/16/2017 1:41:00 PM)

    Get rid of the stupid audio. i could fart it and it would sound more poetic.

  • Jhon Smith (12/2/2016 6:18:00 AM)

    my Favourite poem by him is Attack

  • Ferg Fred Ferg Fred (12/2/2016 6:10:00 AM)

    thank u for the likes my mother likes the attention im getting

Best Poem of Siegfried Sassoon

Suicide In The Trenches

I knew a simple soldier boy
Who grinned at life in empty joy,
Slept soundly through the lonesome dark,
And whistled early with the lark.

In winter trenches, cowed and glum,
With crumps and lice and lack of rum,
He put a bullet through his brain.
No one spoke of him again.

You smug-faced crowds with kindling eye
Who cheer when soldier lads march by,
Sneak home and pray you'll never know
The hell where youth and laughter go.

Read the full of Suicide In The Trenches

I Stood With The Dead

I Stood with the Dead, so forsaken and still:
When dawn was grey I stood with the Dead.
And my slow heart said, 'You must kill, you must kill:
'Soldier, soldier, morning is red'.

On the shapes of the slain in their crumpled disgrace
I stared for a while through the thin cold rain...
'O lad that I loved, there is rain on your face,
'And your eyes are blurred and sick like the plain.'

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