The meaning of 'revision'

We've got this week off, ostensibly for studying, which most of the university seem to be procrastinating from with great vigor. My exams are both at the end of next week, so I've been finishing up course reading I haven't done and looked over previous exam questions for the first time today, but all-in-all haven't been panicked. Instead, I've been reading a book of World War I poetry, working on a comic (around a speaker-silent listener motif) and being ill, as my body went "Wait, are we all done here? Right, I'll just die for a bit then."

Excited for this summer, both coming home and going to China. Not too worried about exams, all things considered, I feel very up-to-date on the concepts of the courses.

Here's a poem I wrote just now. I've been reading this poetry, as I said, and opposite our flat there is a park with a football (soccer) pitch.

Outside boy-men with sunken chests

Play football in a muddy field,

Inside I sit and read on death

In wartime, of men broke and healed.

Reading trench-poems to springtime days

As they turn evening, shadows long,

Outside my window, the football players

Are the same age, about as strong

As men who died in foreign lands.

Tired boys, with footballs in their hands.