09/11/2025
Rupert Brooke, the man in the picture, passed away in 1915 from an insect bite while serving on a British naval ship near the Greek island of Skyros. He wrote his beautiful sonnet shortly after the First World War began, which is why I’m sharing it today on Remembrance Sunday.
War often transforms humans into statistics. Individual lives become just part of a number of people who died in battle. But Brooke's poem really highlights the unique experiences of the soldiers—the music they listened to, the friendships they built, and the quiet moments they had. I love how the poem captures the contrast between life and death, showing how death transforms the vibrant, dynamic beauty of life into a serene stillness. It’s sad, yet beautifully poignant. Quietly emotional, but not sentimental.
The Dead by Rupert Brooke
These hearts were woven of human joys and cares,
Washed marvellously with sorrow, swift to mirth.
The years had given them kindness. Dawn was theirs,
And sunset, and the colours of the earth.
These had seen movement, and heard music; known
Slumber and waking; loved; gone proudly friended;
Felt the quick stir of wonder; sat alone;
Touched flowers and furs and cheeks. All this is ended.
There are waters blown by changing winds to laughter
And lit by the rich skies, all day. And after,
Frost, with a gesture, stays the waves that dance
And wandering loveliness. He leaves a white
Unbroken glory, a gathered radiance,
A width, a shining peace, under the night.
Source: A Poem for Every Day of the Year, edited by Allie Esiri
