Sunday, November 13, 2005

Dulce Et Decorum Est

Dulce Et Decorum Est:
"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
BBC has an interesting production about Owen and Sigfriend Sasson.

3 comments:

  1. Very cool. This is one of my favorite poems. I sometimes think, "Where are our war poets now?" Who is this generation's Wilfred Owen?

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  2. This poem was the first anti-war poem I ever read, I think. It's a great one.

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  3. I use this in Hum 1100--students generally don't get it, but after a little explaining they figure it out.

    I too wonder about our war poets. In a related avenue, I heard the guy who Hayduke (in Abbey's Monkey wrench Gang) is based off being interviewed on RadioWest today. He said that he though by now there would be 100s of Edward Abbeys but, he says, there are none. Maybe our generation is too comfortable.

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