Wilfred Owen - Dulce Et Decorum Est

Wilfred Owen - Dulce Et Decorum Est - Presented by Jeremy Paxman

Dulce Et Decorum Est
by Wilfred Owen (1893-1918)

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.

• Category

  Education

[irenecabrejos33]

what a wonder, for me, to be introduced to such a poet in this poetic way! Muchas gracias

[harryfaber]

I was taught this at school, and also taught how Owen himself was at Hare Hall Officer Training Centre, which later became 'my old school', the Royal Liberty Grammar School, Romford. As such, I have always had a feeling of connection with Owen, slight though it may be.

My Grandfather served in Flanders, and I have a (sort of) Great Uncle buried at Ramparts Cemetery, Ypres.

[Caspar33]

Yes, it is stunning. Thanks.