Εμφάνιση αναρτήσεων με ετικέτα Remembrance Day. Εμφάνιση όλων των αναρτήσεων
Εμφάνιση αναρτήσεων με ετικέτα Remembrance Day. Εμφάνιση όλων των αναρτήσεων

Σάββατο 10 Νοεμβρίου 2012

Remembrance Day: Sean Bean Reads Wilfred Owen Part 2 (VIDEO)


 The Last Laugh

Wilfred Owen
'Oh! Jesus Christ! I'm hit,' he said; and died.
Whether he vainly cursed or prayed indeed,
The Bullets chirped-In vain, vain, vain!
Machine-guns chuckled,-Tut-tut! Tut-tut!
And the Big Gun guffawed.

Another sighed,-'O Mother, -Mother, - Dad!'
Then smiled at nothing, childlike, being dead.
And the lofty Shrapnel-cloud
Leisurely gestured,-Fool!
And the splinters spat, and tittered.

'My Love!' one moaned. Love-languid seemed his mood,
Till slowly lowered, his whole faced kissed the mud.
And the Bayonets' long teeth grinned;
Rabbles of Shells hooted and groaned;
And the Gas hissed. 


Watch the full tv spots here
 

Παρασκευή 9 Νοεμβρίου 2012

Remembrance Day: Sean Bean reads Wilfred Owen's Anthem for Doomed Youth (VIDEO)

Remembrance Day (also known as Poppy Day or Armistice Day) is a memorial day observed in Commonwealth countries since the end of World War I to remember the members of their armed forces who have died in the line of duty. As part of a series of short films being aired on More 4 to mark Remembrance Sunday (11-11-12), Sean Bean joins fellow stars to recite First World War poetry. In this video he reads The ''Anthem For Doomed Youth'' Poem by Wilfred Owen : 

Anthem For Doomed Youth
What passing-bells for these who die as cattle?
Only the monstrous anger of the guns.
Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle
Can patter out their hasty orisons.
No mockeries now for them; no prayers nor bells;
Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs,
The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells;
And bugles calling for them from sad shires.
What candles may be held to speed them all?
Not in the hands of boys, but in their eyes
Shall shine the holy glimmers of good-byes.
The pallor of girls' brows shall be their pall;
Their flowers the tenderness of patient minds,
And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds. 


Read the full article here.