Can anyone help me out with this poem?

This is an Imagist poem from the First World War, in which the writer compares the sky at sunset to a dead body on the battlefront. The imagined mutilated body of the dead soldier is adorned by garlands (the mist). This is ironic because "garlands" are ociated with triumph (and possibly victory) rather than brutal death. During the First World War the troops often felt that the people at home in England were blissfully unaware of the horrors of the trenches - this is the bitter wind blowing from Flanders, where the main battles took place. I hope this helps.