Poem of the Week, by Archibald MacLeish

The Young Dead Soldiers, by Archibald MacLeish

The young dead soldiers do not speak.

Nevertheless, they are heard in
the still houses: who has not
heard them?

They have a silence that speaks for
them at night and when the clock

They say: We were young. We
have died. Remember us.

They say: We have done what we
could but until it is finished it is not

They say: We have given our lives
but until it is finished no one can
know what our lives gave.

They say: Our deaths are not ours;
they are yours; they will mean what
you make them.

They say: Whether our lives and
our deaths were for peace and a
new hope or for nothing we cannot
say: it is you who must say this.

They say: We leave you our deaths.
Give them their meaning.

We were young, they say. We
have died. Remember us.


F​or more information on Archibald MacLeish, please click here: http://www.poetryfoundation.org/bio/archibald-macleish​

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