War poetry expresses the emotions and experiences of war. This type of poetry can be written by soldiers, civilians, or anyone affected by war in some way.
War is a very old and common phenomenon in human history. There have been many wars in different times and places.
Some of the most famous wars are the World Wars. By reading some famous poems about war, we learn about the history, culture, and politics of different wars and conflicts.
it can also help us learn from the past and avoid repeating the same mistakes in the future.
In the following list, there are many great war poems by famous poets. This type of poetry will help you to face the reality of the war and to remember the efforts of the soldiers.
By Wilfred Owen
“This book is not about heroes.
Nor is it about deeds or lands
nor anything about glory, honour
might, majesty, dominion, or power, except war.
My subject is war, and the pity of war.
Elegy In A Country Churchyard
By G.K. Chesterton
The men that worked for England
They have their graves at home:
And bees and birds of England
About the cross can roam.
But they that fought for England,
Following a falling star,
Alas, alas for England
They have their graves afar.
And they that rule in England,
In stately conclave met,
Alas, alas for England
They have no graves as yet
By W. B. Yeats
I know that I shall meet my fate
Somewhere among the clouds above;
Those that I fight I do not hate,
Those that I guard I do not love;
My country is Kiltartan Cross,
My countrymen Kiltartan’s poor,
No likely end could bring them loss
Or leave them happier than before.
Nor law, nor duty bade me fight,
Nor public men, nor cheering crowds,
A lonely impulse of delight
Drove to this tumult in the clouds;
I balanced all, brought all to mind,
The years to come seemed waste of breath,
A waste of breath the years behind
In balance with this life, this death.
The Wound in Time
By Carol Ann Duffy
It is the wound in Time. The century’s tides,
chanting their bitter psalms, cannot heal it.
Not the war to end all wars; death’s birthing place;
the earth nursing its ticking metal eggs, hatching
new carnage. But how could you know, brave
as belief as you boarded the boats, singing?
The end of God in the poisonous, shrapneled air.
Poetry gargling its own blood. We sense it was love
you gave your world for; the town squares silent,
awaiting their cenotaphs. What happened next?
War. And after that? War. And now? War. War.
History might as well be water, chastising this shore;
for we learn nothing from your endless sacrifice.
Your faces drowning in the pages of the sea.
The Lament Of The Demobilized
By Vera Brittain
‘Four years,’ some say consolingly. ‘Oh well,
What’s that? You’re young. And then it must have been
A very fine experience for you!’
And they forget
How others stayed behind and just got on—
Got on the better since we were away.
And we came home and found
They had achieved, and men revered their names,
But never mentioned ours;
And no one talked heroics now, and we
Must just go back and start again once more.
‘You threw four years into the melting-pot—
Did you indeed!’ these others cry. ‘Oh well,
The more fool you!’
And we’re beginning to agree with them.