91–100 of 116 posts
While we're sharing anti-war songs/poetry, I like And The Band Played Waltzing Matilda (originally written by Eric Bogle, but I personally like the Pogues' version): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PKURhqmSLmM
Another great Eric Bogle song is Green Fields of France. I like this version by The Men They Couldn't Hang best : https://youtu.be/Kr6OzLJrS2k?si=ZX6lrXqjZktV20-V
I remember reading this as part of GCSE English, unfortunately the school system in the UK makes poetry dry and uninspiring. In terms of anti-war poems I prefer "The Box" by Kendrew Lascelles.
I wonder if you can age a person based on them knowing this and whatever the Siegfried Sassoon poem that was covered in order to demonstrate onomatopoeia? I suppose it would depend how long it was (or indeed if it still is) part of the curriculum.
While we're sharing anti-war songs/poetry, I like And The Band Played Waltzing Matilda (originally written by Eric Bogle, but I personally like the Pogues' version): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PKURhqmSLmM
山坡羊·潼关怀古 张养浩
峰峦如聚，波涛如怒，山河表里潼关路。望西都，意踌躇。 伤心秦汉经行处，宫阙万间都做了土。兴，百姓苦；亡，百姓苦。
Tune: “Sheep on the Hillside” —Tong Pass
Zhang Yanghao
Translated by Wayne Schlepp
Peaks as if massed,
Waves that look angry,
Along the mountains and the river lies the road to Tong Pass.
I look to the West Capital,
My thoughts unsettled.
Here, where the Qin and Han armies passed, I lament
The ten thousand palaces, all turned to dust.
Kingdoms rise,
The people suffer;
Kingdoms fall,
The people suffer.
You've got to die of something; so you might as well die for something but your country isn't the best thing to die for. The problem with your country (at least the vast majority of countries) is that it doesn't care about you. It's just too big to care. It has almost nothing to do with you. I can't wrap my mind around the fact that people feel some affiliation with their country. For the vast majority of people, the…
I think you underestimate just how well national pride works on people. It's an amazing proposition - you get to identify with the struggles and achievements of millions of people over decades just by being born in some spot. This can be useful/motivating in moderation, but it's obvious how dangerously easy it is to abuse by nationalists. Russians rather feel mighty dying in a pointless war than admitting they will n…
I remember reading this as part of GCSE English, unfortunately the school system in the UK makes poetry dry and uninspiring. In terms of anti-war poems I prefer "The Box" by Kendrew Lascelles.
I remember reading this as part of GCSE English, unfortunately the school system in the UK makes poetry dry and uninspiring. In terms of anti-war poems I prefer "The Box" by Kendrew Lascelles.
Reading and reciting this poem and the works of Benjamin Zephaniah (particularly ‘dis poetry’) in gcse English convinced me that it wasn’t ‘lame’ and poetry can be inspiring
Sharing my beloved ancient Chinese poem 山坡羊·潼关怀古 张养浩 峰峦如聚，波涛如怒，山河表里潼关路。望西都，意踌躇。 伤心秦汉经行处，宫阙万间都做了土。兴，百姓苦；亡，百姓苦。 Tune: “Sheep on the Hillside” —Tong Pass Zhang Yanghao Translated by Wayne Schlepp Peaks as if massed, Waves that look angry, Along the mountains and the river lies the road to Tong Pass. I look to the West Capital, My thoughts unsettled. Here, where the Qin and Han armies passed, I lament The ten thousand pa…
We’re on a route uncharted, fire and blood erase our tracks. On we fly, on wings of thunder, never more to sheath our swords. All of us in battle fallen, not to be brought back by words.
Will there be a rendezvous? I know not. I only know we still must fight. We are sand grains in infinity, never to meet,never more see light.
Farewell then my son. Farewell then my conscience. My youth and my solace my one and my only.
And let this farewell be the end of a story, Of solitude vast and which none is more lonely. In which you remain,barred forever and ever, From light and from air,with your death pangs untold. Untold and unsoothed, not to be resurrected. Forever and ever, an 18 year old.
Farewell then, no trains ever come from those regions Unscheduled or scheduled, no aeroplanes fly there. Farewell then my son, for no miracles happen, As in this world dreams do not come true.
Farewell…
I will dream of you still as a baby, Treading the earth with little strong toes, The earth where already so many lie buried. This song to my son, is come to its close.
Son (Pavel Antokolsky, 1943)
You've got to die of something; so you might as well die for something but your country isn't the best thing to die for. The problem with your country (at least the vast majority of countries) is that it doesn't care about you. It's just too big to care. It has almost nothing to do with you. I can't wrap my mind around the fact that people feel some affiliation with their country. For the vast majority of people, the…