Killed Paive--July 8--1918 Poem by Ernest Hemingway

Killed Paive--July 8--1918

Rating: 2.8


Desire and
All the sweet pulsing aches
And gentle hurtings
That were you,
Are gone into the sullen dark.
Now in the night you come unsmiling
To lie with me
A dull, cold, rigid bayonet
On my hot-swollen, throbbing soul.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Adeeb Alfateh 29 July 2019

Now in the night you come unsmiling To lie with me A dull, cold, rigid bayonet well 10+++++++++++++++++

0 0 Reply
Vito T 09 June 2018

It's Piave, not Paive.

0 0 Reply
Fabrizio Frosini 28 February 2016

Killed Paive - July 8- 1918 Desire and All the sweet pulsing aches And gentle hurtings That were you, Are gone into the sullen dark. Now in the night you come unsmiling To lie with me A dull, cold, rigid bayonet On my hot-swollen, throbbing soul. - - In ITALIAN: Ucciso il Piave - 8 luglio 1918 Il desiderio e Tutti quegli amabili indolenzimenti pulsanti E la dolenzia delicata Che tu rappresentavi, Si sono persi nella cupa oscurità. Ora, di notte, senza un sorriso Giaci con me: Una smorta, fredda e rigida baionetta Sull'anima mia ardente, turgida, palpitante..

23 0 Reply
Close
Error Success