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the sentry by wilfred owen - the war poetry society كلمات أغنية

we’d found an old boche dug_out, and he knew
and gave us h_ll, for sh_ll on frantic sh_ll
hammered on top, but never quite burst through
rain, guttering down in waterfalls of slime
kept slush waist high, that rising hour by hour
choked up the steps too thick with clay to climb
what murk of air remained stank old, and sour
with fumes of whizz_bangs, and the smell of men
who’d lived there years, and left their curse in the den
if not their corpses. . .
there we herded from the blast
of whizz_bangs, but one found our door at last
buffeting eyes and breath, snuffing the candles
and thud! flump! thud! down the steep steps came thumping
and splashing in the flood, deluging muck—
the sentry’s body; then his rifle, handles
of old boche bombs, and mud in ruck on ruck
we dredged him up, for k!lled, until he whined
“o sir, my eyes—i’m blind—i’m blind, i’m blind!”
coaxing, i held a flame against his lids
and said if he could see the least blurred light
he was not blind; in time he’d get all right
“i can’t,” he sobbed. eyeb_lls, huge_bulged like squids
watch my dreams still; but i forgot him there
in posting next for duty, and sending a scout
to beg a stretcher somewhere, and floundering about
to other posts under the shrieking air
those other wretches, how they bled and spewed
and one who would have drowned himself for good,—
i try not to remember these things now
let dread hark back for one word only: how
half_listening to that sentry’s moans and jumps
and the wild chattering of his broken t__th
renewed most horribly whenever crumps
pummelled the roof and slogged the air beneath—
through the dense din, i say, we heard him shout
“i see your lights!” but ours had long died out

- the sentry by wilfred owen

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