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Dulce et Decorum Est

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by

Ms. Mc Caffrey

on 2 September 2016

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Transcript of Dulce et Decorum Est

Stanza 1
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.
Stanza 3
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.
Reflection
During World War 1 it was considered deeply unpatriotic to criticise the war effort. However, more and more of the men at the front were begining to question what was happening as millons of men were slaughtered.

Wilfred Owen's poem was extremely shocking and revolutionary when it was first printed.
Dulce et Decorum Est
Wilfred Owen

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,
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.
Stanza 2

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.
Who do you think this is?
What do you know about Wilfred Owen's life?
Empathy
and
Listening

November 1918
Dulce et Decorum Est
Do you think it is an effective protest against the war?

How does he try to convince readers that war is wrong and futile.
Full transcript