EVENING--KENT

Sheep, like woolly clouds dropt from the sky,

Drift through the quiet meads.

From over the seas, a little cry,

--Europe bleeds!

Clouds, like woolly sheep, hardly stir'd,

Drift through the quiet skies.

From over the seas, a little word,

--Europe dies!

Sorrow of War: Poems · 第 86 / 89 题