The old lie

[khaosworks]

Dulce Et Decorum Est
by Wilfred Owen
First Published in 1921

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 gas-shells dropping softly 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
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.

The Latin motto, a quote from Horace, means, "It is a sweet and seemly thing to die for one's country."

Comments

[judecorp.livejournal.com]

When I was in high school, I had that poem hanging on my wall, the page torn out of my Literature textbook.

Aah, the more things change, hmm? I love that poem.

[daphnis.livejournal.com]

"Sticks and stones
May break my bones,
But words can never
Harm me....."
To think that I believed that child's tale for so many years makes me wonder at humanity's capability for self-delusion. Is it okay to wage war if we carefully wipe all the blood-and-guts off, 'sanitize' the memories, paint everything up in the colors of patriotism? How do we manage to con ourselves into pretending that _this_ time things will be different, that the outcomes will be different or the war cause less 'collateral damage'?

I had forgotten the impact of that poem, which rips my innards into ribbons when I read it..... which is why I _don't_, mostly. I wish that somehow it were possible to subliminally engrave that picture of war into the psyche of every elected or appointed President, Prime Minister, or other country leader, so that the mere thought of waging war would produce incapacitating revulsion instead of excitement. Not in _my_ day, I don't imagine, but someday....

[figmo.livejournal.com]

Wow.

I've never seen that one before. Thank you.