1914

• ingiliz şair philip larkin'in harika siiri, buyurunuz orjinal haliyle:
  
  mcmxiv
  
  those long uneven lines
  standing as patiently
  as if they were stretched outside
  the oval or villa park,
  the crowns of hats, the sun
  on moustached archaic faces
  grinning as if it were all
  an august bank holiday lark;
  
  and the shut shops, the bleached
  established names on the sunblinds,
  the farthings and sovereigns,
  and dark-clothed children at play
  called after kings and queens,
  the tin advertisements
  for cocoa and twist, and the pubs
  wide open all day;
  
  and the countryside not caring
  the place-names all hazed over
  with flowering grasses, and fields
  shadowing domesday lines
  under wheats' restless silence;
  the differently-dressed servants
  with tiny rooms in huge houses,
  the dust behind limousines;
  
  never such innocence,
  never before or since,
  as changed itself to past
  without a word - the men
  leaving the gardens tidy,
  the thousands of marriages
  lasting a little while longer:
  never such innocence again.
  
  philip larkin