<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=536225" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Conscious</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">His fingers wake, and flutter up the bed.<br>His eyes come open with a pull of will,<br>Helped by the yellow may-flowers by his head.<br>A blind-cord drawls across the window-sill . . .<br>How smooth the floor of the ward is! what a rug!<br>And who's that talking, somewhere out of sight?<br>Why are they laughing? What's inside that jug?<br>&quot;Nurse! Doctor!&quot; &quot;Yes; all right, all right.&quot; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">But sudden dusk bewilders all the air --<br>There seems no time to want a drink of water.<br>Nurse looks so far away. And everywhere<br>Music and roses burnt through crimson slaughter.<br>Cold; cold; he's cold; and yet so hot:<br>And there's no light to see the voices by --<br>No time to dream, and ask -- he knows not what.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Wilfred+Owen">Wilfred Owen</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=536225" data-title="Conscious de Wilfred Owen" data-description="His fingers wake, and flutter up the bed. His eyes come open with a pull of will, Helped by the yellow may-flowers by his head. A blind-cord drawls across the window-sill . . . How smooth the floor of the ward is! what a rug! And who's that talkin..."></div> </div> </div>

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