Стихи о войне на английском языке о войне

Подборка стихотворений о войне  на английском языке.

Wait for Me. 

Translated by Mike Munford

to Valentina Serova

Wait for me, and I'll come back!

Wait with all you've got!

Wait, when dreary yellow rains

Tell you, you should not.

Wait when snow is falling fast,

Wait when summer's hot,

Wait when yesterdays are past,

Others are forgot.

Wait, when from that far-off place,

Letters don't arrive.

Wait, when those with whom you wait

Doubt if I'm alive.

Wait for me, and I'll come back!

Wait in patience yet

When they tell you off by heart

That you should forget.

Even when my dearest ones

Say that I am lost,

Even when my friends give up,

Sit and count the cost,

Drink a glass of bitter wine

To the fallen friend -

Wait! And do not drink with them!

Wait until the end!

Wait for me and I'll come back,

Dodging every fate!

"What a bit of luck!" they'll say,

Those that would not wait.

They will never understand

How amidst the strife,

By your waiting for me, dear,

You had saved my life.

Only you and I will know

How you got me through.

Simply - you knew how to wait -

No one else but you.

***

https://www.poemhunter.com/poems/soldier/page-1/17411393/#content аудио

Young Soldier - Poem by Only Yours

Stay calm, soldier.

Do not panic!

Stay calm, soldier,

And think of what you were taught

You're too young to die,

My soldier,

You're too young to leave.

Run, soldier,

From the danger ahead.

Run,soldier,

Don't be brave!

You're too young to die,

My soldier,

You're too young to leave.

Fight, soldier,

The enemy that fights you.

Fight ,soldier,

And make it though the day.

You're too young to die,

My soldier,

You're too young to leave.

Come home, soldier,

I miss you terribly.

Come home, soldier,

To me and your family.

You're too young to die,

My soldier,

Don't ever leave me.

***

The following poem was written by a 12 year old boy.

War is full of people dying,

War is full of relatives crying,

Peace makes people happy, not sad,

Things like Peace are good, not bad.

War is dismal, dark and bloody,

In trenches deep, but small and muddy.

Peace is beautiful, quiet and clean,

When people are kind, no one is mean.

War is terrible, no matter what kind,

Peace is a lot nicer, I`m sure you`ll find.

Peace and happiness come hand in hand,

Sparkling and golden like the desert sand.

Peace and joy are like a team,

Each one like a bright sunbeam.

***

Chris, Kandahar Airbase  -  A soldier's lost love

Reality in Afghanistan

Phil Williams explains how this poem came to be written: I wrote this poem last July (2009). At the time I was working in Camp Bastion in Afghanistan, for the NAAFI and was wallowing in self pity as my partner had just sent me a “Dear John” e mail. Seeing all those helicopters coming in with the dead and wounded moved me greatly and put my own small problems into perspective. I am proud to have served our brave service men and women in Afghanistan in my own small way.

Phil Williams

Reality in Afghanistan

My pain feels cold and selfish

My anguish very small

My reality insignificant

Compared to ones that fall

Young men with broken bodies

Their Comrades lie in sacks

Devastated parents

Their sons will not come back.

My pain will ease and lessen

My anguish slip away

Reality in Afghanistan

Two brave men died today

Young men with shell shocked faces

Growing old before their time

 Are living breathing testament

To this shallow pain of mine.

Bastion 1 July 2009

***

To the memory of all who have fallen in war.

At the going down of the sun,

And in the morning …we will remember them

UNKNOWN SOLDIER

“Where have all the soldiers gone, ”

“Gone to graveyards everyone; ”

Peter Seeger’s sung melodies...

A grieving mother’s sad memories.

Our mother’s sons gone to war,

Repeated untold times before,

Gone to fight for kith and kin,

Each mother’s heart broken within.

Waiting for that ‘gram’ to arrive,

Your son is not coming home alive;

'Your son is missing presumed dead',

That is how those telegrams read.

Now buried deep, so far from home

Beneath some foreign turf and loam.

A Bayoneted rifle marks the hamlet,

Atop the butt, a mangled helmet,

No ‘dog tags’, neck laced identity,

An unmarked grave… for eternity.

Where is the sanity of it all,

Where is the sense of it all,

“When will we ever learn,

When… will we ever learn.”

Alf Hutchison

***

http://www.songlyrics.com/mark-schultz/letters-from-war-lyrics/ Lyrics

http://www.songlyrics.com/mark-schultz/letters-from-war-lyrics/#piRKCD5V4AYYF84s.99 аудио

 Mark Schultz - Letters from War 

She walked to the mailbox

On that bright summers day

Found a letter from her son

In a war, far away

He spoke of the weather

And good friends that he'd made

Said, " I'd been thinking 'bout dad

And the life that he had that's why, I'm here today"

And then in the end he said, "You are what I'm fighting for"

It was the first of his letters from war

She started writing

You're good and you're brave

What a father that you'll be someday

Make it home, make it safe

She wrote every night as she prayed

Late in December

A day, she'll not forget

Oh, her tears stained the paper

With every word that she read

It said, "I was up on a hill, I was out there alone

When the shots all rang out and bombs were exploding

That's when I saw him, he came back for me

And though he was captured a man set me free

And that man was your son, he asked me to write to you

I told him, I would, Oh, I swore"

It was the last of the letters from war

And she prayed, he was living, kept on believing

And wrote every night just to say

You are good and you're brave

What a father that you'll be someday

Make it home, make it safe

Still she kept writing each day

Then two years later

Autumn leaves, all around

A car pulled in the driveway

And she fell to the ground

And out stepped a captain

Where her boy used to stand

He said, "Mom, I'm followin' orders

From all of your letters and I've come home again"

He ran into hold her, dropped all his bags on the floor

Holdin' all of her letters from war.

Bring him home. Bring him home.  Bring him home.

***

A Soldier's Daughter

A little girl's father is away at war when she is born, but there is still an amazing bond between the two of them that seems almost unreal. Even though he can't be there, she still loves him very much.   

A Soldier's Daughter

© Alisha Mcaleese  Published on August 2008

When I first came into this world

You could not be there.

But mommy promised every night

That you would always care.

Each day I grow a little more

And I'm beginning to look like you

Mommy always says you love me

And daddy, I love you too.

Don't think that I am mad at you

my heart is full of fear.

but daddy I forgive you

I want to make that clear.

I know each day you think of me

and wish you could come home,

each day you also fight for me

so that I am free to roam.

You should know I miss you daddy

And I really need you near.

so please be safe at least until

the next time you are here.

Source: http://www.familyfriendpoems.com/poem/a-soldiers-daughter

***

Soldier Daddy

© Gina M. Makowsky

Published on February 2006

To you I may be very small

Or think I don't know much at all

I've learned to grow up rather fast

With so much future and not much past

I'm just two years old but often sad

I want so much to hug my dad

He's protecting us from far away

His life on the line everyday

I watch my mom and see her cry

I already know but still ask why?

Her heart is hurting yet she tries to smile

And we hold each other for a little while

I'm still young yet very wise

I have my fun but realize

My soldier daddy is brave and strong

I pray his deployment won't be long

Source: http://www.familyfriendpoems.com/poem/soldier-daddy

***

James Lenihan fought in Europe during World War II as a sergeant in the 104th Infantry Division. His son remembered him as a “tough customer” who didn’t seem haunted by the war. So he was surprised when, sorting through his father’s basement, he found a poem about his father’s struggle to cope with killing a German soldier. He’d never known him to write any others.

The Defense Centers of Excellence, which helps veterans and their families recover from psychological health/traumatic brain injuries, published the poem, hoping it would help veterans and their families in their healing process.

Murder—So Foul

I shot a man yesterday

And much to my surprise,

The strangest thing happened to me

I began to cry.

He was so young, so very young

And Fear was in his eyes,

He had left his home in Germany

And came to Holland to die.

And what about his Family

were they not praying for him?

Thank God they couldn’t see their son

And the man that had murdered him.

I knelt beside him

And held his hand—

I begged his forgiveness

Did he understand?

It was the War

And he was the enemy

If I hadn’t shot him

He would have shot me.

I saw he was dying

And I called him “Brother”

But he gasped out one word

And that word was “Mother.”

I shot a man yesterday

And much to surprise

A part of me died with Him

When Death came to close

His eyes.

***

Snezana Aendo

…

Let me be the last child,

What took my mother's war...

My photo now, as an icon.

I'm not scared. I'm not here alone.

From my side of the Gorlovka Cyrus

Another uncle and aunt with the children.

Slavic Basil and Ira.

We were here for thousands of angels...we...

I do not know why we killed...

Even God does not give us the answer.

We dreamed, played, loved,

Our close and sunlight.

I, Polina...I was only eight...

Bear-five... ...Lena Vita are two of six.

Stop the war...We ask you...

So many tears shed that does not count...

Let me be the last child,

What took my mother's war...

My photo now, as an icon.

I'm not scared. I'm not here alone.