I’d heard fool-heroes brag of where they’d been,
With stories of the glories that they’d seen.
But you, good simple soldier, seasoned well
In woods and posts and crater-lines of hell,
Who dodge remembered ‘crumps’ with wry grimace,
Endured experience in your queer, kind face,
Fatigues and vigils haunting nerve-strained eyes,
And both your brothers killed to make you wise;
You had no babbling phrases; what you said
Was like a message from the maimed and dead.
But memory brought the voice I knew, whose note
Was muted when they shot you in the throat;
And still you whisper of the war, and find
Sour jokes for all those horrors left behind.
| Best Poems | Short Poems
Email Poem |
Top Siegfried Sassoon Poems
Analysis and Comments on A Whispered Tale
Provide your analysis, explanation, meaning, interpretation, and comments on the poem A Whispered Tale here.
Commenting has been disabled for now.