英语诗歌:Move him into the sun（在线收听）

Move him into the sun -

Gently its touch awoke him once,

At home, whispering of fields unsown.

Always it woke him, even in France,

Until this morning and this snow.

If anything might rouse him now

The kind old sun will know.

Think how it wakes the seeds, -

Woke, once, the clays of a cold star.

Are limbs, so dear-achieved, are sides,

Full-nerved,- still warm,- too hard to stir?

Was it for this the clay grew tall?

- O what made fatuous sunbeams toil

To break earth's sleep at all?

to whisper: to speak softly

unsown: not planted with seeds

to rouse: to wake

limb: an arm or leg

fatuous: silly and without purpose

Futility by Wilfred Owen