Another Anzac day

Anthem for Doomed Youth
‭
What passing-bells for those 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.‭

Wilfred Owen