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.
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Comments about this poem (1914 by Wilfred Owen )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
William Ernest Henley
Did you read them?
- Let not this earth be divided, gajanan mishra
- With situation, hasmukh amathalal
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- Hot Summer Tanka, Toshie Nohara
- No need to ask, gajanan mishra
- Truth, Tony Adah
- Walking the dog, Nassy Fesharaki
- Prince Charming, Electric Lady
- With promising words, hasmukh amathalal
- pray to me, tara mahdavi