by Wilfred Owen (1893 - 1918)
The next war
Language: English
Available translation(s): FRE
Out there, we've walked quite friendly up to Death: Sat down and eaten with him, cool and bland, -- Pardoned his spilling mess-tins in our hand. We've sniffed the green thick odour of his breath, -- Our eyes wept, but our courage didn't writhe. He's spat at us with bullets and he's coughed Shrapnel. We chorused when he sang aloft; We whistled while he shaved us with his scythe. Oh, Death was never enemy of ours! We laughed at him, we leagued with him, old chum. No soldier's paid to kick against his powers. We laughed, knowing that better men would come, And greater wars: when each proud fighter brags He wars on Death, for Life; not men, for flags.
Authorship:
- by Wilfred Owen (1893 - 1918), "The next war", from Arts and Letters, first published 1920 [author's text checked 2 times against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
- [ None yet in the database ]
This text (or a part of it) is used in a work
- by (Edward) Benjamin Britten (1913 - 1976), "Dies irae", op. 66 no. 2, published 1961 [soprano, tenor, baritone, satb chorus, boys' chorus, orchestra, chamber orchestra, organ], from War Requiem, no. 2..
Available translations, adaptations, and transliterations (if applicable):
- FRE French (Français) (Pierre Mathé) , title 1: "La prochaine guerre", copyright © 2015, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
This text was added to the website: 2008-01-08
Line count: 14
Word count: 118