(Soldier poet, died April 1915, aged 27)
He lies silent
No more knowing
Cream teas on manicured lawns
Flirting with young women
Creating rich flow of poetic imagery.
That rich dust which England shaped
Made aware was his country's pride
Now dwells grave deep
Far from his beloved English shores
Marked by marble slab on the Isle of Skyros.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem