11 November 2009

Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of tired, outstripped Five-Nines that dropped behind.

Gas! Gas! Quick, boys!–An ecstasy of fumbling,
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time;
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling
And flound'ring like a man in fire or lime...
Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light,
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.

In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.

If in some smothering dreams you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,–
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.
-Wilfred Owen, killed in action, World War I

3 comments:

Pea said...

I just gave you an award.Please drop by to pick up ^_^ Keep up the Awesome work!!

Wade Garrett said...

Wilfred Owen was great. I studied World War I poetry in college, as a project for a course I took on 20th Century Britain. It seems to be more or less unanimously agreed that World War I has the best poetry (and, for that matter, probably literature as well) of any war in history, and the Trojan War doesn't count, because The Illiad is more myth than anything else.

Ellen said...

It was a great era -- but since you've studied it, is there a consensus as to why it was so good?