Peace Poem?

Question

Can you give me a poem on peace where all the worlds end their war (Please include the poet and the title of the poem) ThnX

Answer 1

There are some that I found on the web.
It took about 10 min. so I hope I helped.

1. Juan Lopez and John Ward, by Jorge Luis Borges

2. Untitled, by Bertolt Brecht

3. Misnomer, by Denise Levertov

4. Harry Wilmans, by Edgar Lee Masters

5. Dulce Et Decorum Est, by Wilfred Owen

6. Speaking: The Hero, by Felix Pollak

7. Untitled, by William Stafford

8. Give Back Peace, by Sankichi Toge

9.The End and the Beginning by Wislawa Szmborska

I personally think this one is great

TITLE- Misnomer

They speak of the art of war,
but the arts
draw their light from the soul’s well,
and warfare
dries up the soul and draws its power
from a dark and burning wasteland.
When Leonardo
set his genius to devising
machines of destruction he was not
acting in the service of art,
he was suspending
the life of art
over an abyss,
as if one were to hold
a living child out of an airplane window
at thirty thousand feet.

by Denise Levertov
USA (1923-1997)

This one is my second best

TITLE- Give Back Peace

Give back father, give back mother,
Give back grandpa, give back grandma,
Give back boys, give back girls.

Give me back myself, give me back men
Linked to me.

As long as men live as men,
Give back peace,
Peace that never crumbles.

by Sankichi Toge
Japan (1917-1953)

Here is the last one -The End and the Beginning

by Wislawa Szmborska
After every war
someone has to clean up.
Things won't
straighten themselves up, after all.
Someone has to push the rubble
to the sides of the road,
so the corpse-laden wagons can pass.

Someone has to get mired
in scum and ashes,
sofa-springs,
splintered glass,
and bloody rags.

Someone must drag in a girder
to prop up a wall.
Someone must glaze a window,
rehang a door.

Photogenic it's not,
and takes years.
All the cameras have left
for another war.

Again we'll need bridges
and new railway stations.

Sleeves will go ragged
from rolling them up.
Someone, broom in hand,
still recalls how it was.
Someone listens
and nods with unsevered head.
Yet others milling about
already find it dull.

From behind the bush
sometimes someone still unearths
rust-eaten arguments
and carries them to the garbage pile.

Those who knew
what was going on here
must give way to
those who know little.
And less than little.
And finally as little as nothing.

In the grass which has overgrown
causes and effects,
someone must be stretched out,
blade of grass in his mouth,
gazing at the clouds.

Wislawa Szmborska was a Polish poet. She was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1996. She died in 2002, at the age of 101.

Answer 2

Buzzle.com has many poems written about war and peace poets names included hope this helps