Edmund Blunden

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

Edmund Blunden Poems

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

The Zonnebeke Road

Morning, if this late withered light can claim
Some kindred with that merry flame
Which the young day was wont to fling through space!
Agony stares from each grey face.
And yet the day is come; stand down! stand down!
Your hands unclasp from rifles while you can;
The frost has pierced them to the bended bone?
Why see old Stevens there, that iron man,
Melting the ice to shave his grotesque chin!
Go ask him,, shall we win?
I never likes this bay, some foolish fear
Caught me the first time that I came here;
That dugout fallen in awakes, perhaps
Some formless...

Read the full of The Zonnebeke Road

Preparations For Victory

My soul, dread not the pestilence that hags
The valley; flinch not you, my body young.
At these great shouting smokes and snarling jags
Of fiery iron; as yet may not be flung
The dice that claims you. Manly move among
These ruins, and what you must do, do well;
Look, here are gardens, there mossed boughs are hung
With apples who bright cheeks none might excel,
And there's a house as yet unshattered by a shell.

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