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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=381480" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Reading in Wartime</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Boswell by my bed, <br>Tolstoy on my table; <br>Thought the world has bled <br>For four and a half years, <br>And wives' and mothers' tears <br>Collected would be able <br>To water a little field <br>Untouched by anger and blood, <br>A penitential yield <br>Somewhere in the world; <br>Though in each latitude <br>Armies like forest fall, <br>The iniquitous and the good <br>Head over heels hurled, <br>And confusion over all: <br>Boswell's turbulent friend <br>And his deafening verbal strife, <br>Ivan Ilych's death <br>Tell me more about life, <br>The meaning and the end <br>Of our familiar breath, <br>Both being personal, <br>Than all the carnage can, <br>Retrieve the shape of man, <br>Lost and anonymous, <br>Tell me wherever I look <br>That not one soul can die <br>Of this or any clan <br>Who is not one of us <br>And has a personal tie <br>Perhaps to someone now <br>Searching an ancient book, <br>Folk-tale or country song <br>In many and many a tongue, <br>To find the original face, <br>The individual soul, <br>The eye, the lip, the brow <br>For ever gone from their place, <br>And gather an image whole.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Edwin+Muir">Edwin Muir</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=381480" data-title="Reading in Wartime de Edwin Muir" data-description="Boswell by my bed, Tolstoy on my table; Thought the world has bled For four and a half years, And wives' and mothers' tears Collected would be able To water a little field Untouched by anger and blood, A penitential yield Somewhere in the..."></div> </div> </div>
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