“Blighters”

Siegfried Sassoon- Original Poem


The House is crammed: tier beyond tier they grin
And cackle at the Show, while prancing ranks
Of harlots shrill the chorus, drunk with din;
‘We’re sure the Kaiser loves our dear old Tanks!’

I’d like to see a Tank come down the stalls,
Lurching to rag-time tunes, or ‘Home, sweet Home’,
And there’d be no more jokes in Music-halls
To mock the riddled corpses round Bapaume.


“Victory”

The line winds ‘round the booth,
“Chance at fortune, have a shot”,
Contestants fail, not told the truth,
The game’s thoughtless thieves remain uncaught.

I’d like to hear a ring’s golden rattle,
See just one prize freed from its dusty rack,
There’d be no more lines, not one battle,
W. walks away with no glance back.