{"id":11430,"date":"2012-01-31T06:30:30","date_gmt":"2012-01-30T17:30:30","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/?p=11430"},"modified":"2012-01-29T22:00:39","modified_gmt":"2012-01-29T09:00:39","slug":"tuesday-poem-dulce-et-decorum-est-by-wilfred-owen","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/2012\/01\/31\/tuesday-poem-dulce-et-decorum-est-by-wilfred-owen\/","title":{"rendered":"Tuesday Poem: &#8220;Dulce Et Decorum Est&#8221; by Wilfred Owen"},"content":{"rendered":"<h3>Dulce Et Decorum Est<\/h3>\n<p>Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,<br \/>\nKnock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,<br \/>\nTill on the haunting flares we turned our backs<br \/>\nAnd towards our distant rest began to trudge.<br \/>\nMen marched asleep. Many had lost their boots<br \/>\nBut limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;<br \/>\nDrunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots<br \/>\nOf tired, outstripped Five-Nines that dropped behind.<br \/>\nGas! Gas! Quick, boys! \u2013 An ecstasy of fumbling,<br \/>\nFitting the clumsy helmets just in time;<br \/>\nBut someone still was yelling out and stumbling,<br \/>\nAnd flound&#8217;ring like a man in fire or lime . . .<br \/>\nDim, through the misty panes and thick green light,<br \/>\nAs under a green sea, I saw him drowning.<br \/>\nIn all my dreams, before my helpless sight,<br \/>\nHe plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.<br \/>\nIf in some smothering dreams you too could pace<br \/>\nBehind the wagon that we flung him in,<br \/>\nAnd watch the white eyes writhing in his face,<br \/>\nHis hanging face, like a devil&#8217;s sick of sin;<br \/>\nIf you could hear, at every jolt, the blood<br \/>\nCome gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,<br \/>\nObscene as cancer, bitter as the cud<br \/>\nOf vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,<br \/>\nMy friend, you would not tell with such high zest<br \/>\nTo children ardent for some desperate glory,<br \/>\nThe old Lie; Dulce et Decorum est<br \/>\nPro patria mori.<\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #ffffff;\">.<\/span><\/p>\n<p>by Wilfred Owen<\/p>\n<p>1893 &#8211; 1918<\/p>\n<p>&#8212;<\/p>\n<p>Last week I featured <a href=\"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/2012\/01\/24\/tuesday-poem-ab-negative-the-surgeons-poem-by-brian-turner\/\"><strong><em>AB Negative (The Surgeon&#8217;s Poem)<\/em><\/strong><\/a> by US poet Brian Turner&#8212;and quoted Wilfred Owen in my commentary: <em>\u201cMy subject is War, and the pity of War. The Poetry is in the pity.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n<p>So this week it seemed appropriate to feature a poem by Wilfred Owen, in this case one of the more well known, <em><strong>Dulce Et Decorum Est.<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n<p>Wilfred Owen is also one of the most well known of the World War 1 poets writing in English, and his poetry is characterized by the juxtaposition of compassion with grim realism.<\/p>\n<p>&#8212;<\/p>\n<p><a href=\"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/2011\/08\/30\/tuesday-poem-enchantress-of-numbers-by-helen-rickerby\/tuespoem\/\" rel=\"attachment wp-att-7519\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"alignleft size-full wp-image-7519\" title=\"TuesPoem\" src=\"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2011\/08\/TuesPoem.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"120\" height=\"107\" \/><\/a>To read the featured poem on the <strong>Tuesday Poem Hub<\/strong> and other great poems from fellow Tuesday poets around the world, click <a href=\"http:\/\/tuesdaypoem.blogspot.com\/\"><strong>here<\/strong><\/a> or on the <strong>Quill<\/strong> <strong>icon<\/strong> in the sidebar.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Dulce Et Decorum Est 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 [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[6],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-11430","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/11430","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=11430"}],"version-history":[{"count":6,"href":"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/11430\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":11436,"href":"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/11430\/revisions\/11436"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=11430"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=11430"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=11430"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}