Edmund Blunden

(1 November 1896 – 20 January 1974 / London / England)

Edmund Blunden Poems

1. Thiepval Wood 4/3/2010
2. First Rhymes 4/3/2010
3. The Giant Puff-Ball 4/3/2010
4. April Byeway 4/3/2010
5. Pillbox 4/3/2010
6. The Zonnebeke Road 4/3/2010
7. Concert Party: Busseboom 4/3/2010
8. The Poor Man's Pig 4/3/2010
9. A Country God 4/3/2010
10. The Watchers 4/3/2010
11. To Joy 1/3/2003
12. Almswomen 4/3/2010
13. Perch Fishing 4/3/2010
14. The Ancre At Hamel: Afterwards 4/3/2010
15. Vlamertinghe: Passing The Chateau 1/3/2003
16. The Child's Grave 4/3/2010
17. Can You Remember? 4/3/2010
18. Chinese Paper Knife 11/19/2003
19. Premature Rejoicing 1/3/2003
20. At Senlis Once 1/3/2003
21. The Survival 1/3/2003
22. Forefathers 1/3/2003
23. The Midnight Skaters 1/3/2003
24. Harvest 1/3/2003
25. 1916 Seen From 1921 1/3/2003
26. Preparations For Victory 1/3/2003
27. Report On Experience 1/3/2003
Best Poem of Edmund Blunden

Report On Experience

I have been young, and now am not too old;
And I have seen the righteous forsaken,
His health, his honour and his quality taken.
This is not what we were formerly told.

I have seen a green country, useful to the race,
Knocked silly with guns and mines, its villages vanished,
Even the last rat and the last kestrel banished -
God bless us all, this was peculiar grace.

I knew Seraphina; Nature gave her hue,
Glance, sympathy, note, like one from Eden.
I saw her smile warp, heard her lyric deaden;
She turned to harlotry; - this I took to be new.

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To Joy

Is not this enough for moan
To see this babe all motherless -
A babe beloved - thrust out alone
Upon death's wilderness?
Out tears fall, fall, fall - I would weep
My blood away to make her warm,
Who never went on earth one step,
Nor heard the breath of the storm.
How shall you go, my little child,

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