Gold and Grey
War was romantic in the days of old.
The knight rode forth to battle unafraid,
Wearing the favour of some royal maid
Who loved him for his courage lionbold.
And thus he sought adventures manifold
In joust and tourney midst fanfaronade
Of trumpets, or else fought in a crusade
Gainst infidels, his honour to uphold.
But modern war is not at all the same.
There are no plumes to catch my lady's eye.
In dugouts deep or trenches lashed by rain,
Where poison gas creeps in to suffocate,
Where bullets slap against the parapet,
And barbéd wire crucifies the slain.
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Gold and Grey by Harry Crosby )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley
- I turned the lock, You hold the key, Karen Thornburg
- Confusion, Karen Thornburg
- A BEST FRIEND, DIVYANSH SHRIVASTAVA
- ode to ayodeji, ademola oluwabusayo
- Changes change what?, PARTHA SARATHI PAUL
- You are an angel, salma. torrez
- Stillness, SALINI NAIR
- Cleared Of Negativity, Lawrence S. Pertillar
- Silence breaker, SALINI NAIR
- I Died in My Dream Last Night, Monk E. Biz