Classic Poem

All day beneath the hurtling shells,
Before my burning eyes
Hover the dainty demoiselles —
The peacock dragonflies.

Unceasingly they dart and glance
Above the stagnant stream ...
And I am fighting here in France
As in a senseless dream —

A dream of shattering black shells
That hurtle overhead,
And dainty dancing demoiselles
Above the dreamless dead.