Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori ......

Discussion in 'Waffle' started by EWOKS, Mar 14, 2010.

  1. EWOKS

    EWOKS POTATOES GONNA POTATE

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    been reading the old war poetry lately..

    this is unbelievable.

    for anyone that thought it was noble and brave to die for your country.

    probably the most famous war poem ever written,

    By Wilfred Owen... who died in battle.


    Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori - means, it is sweet and proper to die for ones country ...




    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 floundering 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.
     
  2. Blurr

    Blurr Wasted Selection

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    it's a bit bigger than that, WW1 was the first war that Britain didn't just walk through, for a hundred years we had kicked everyones' arses, from waterloo to the boer, WW1 was a whole different kettle of fish, the front lines virtually stayed the same throughout and we just kept sending in more troops like lambs to the slaughter, this poem summed up that mentality, plus it was published posthumously which usually means its truer to the heart as he didn't necessarily write it with the intent of it being published
     
  3. EWOKS

    EWOKS POTATOES GONNA POTATE

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    yea exactly.. and i didnt say it wasn't bigger than that.. you can read good analysis' on the net bout it, gain understanding of the whole poem.. it goes deep man, gotta alot of feeling to it, obviously pretty sickening to watch hundreds of young men drop like flys .. just cannon fodder.

    also little fact you may know or not know.. more people died of flu in the 1918 epidemic than in the great war..
     
  4. Hombre-J

    Hombre-J Currently Ballsacked

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    I remember first hearing this poem, it's so emotive, and can really speak to you. War poetry is so different from any other text from the poetic genre, and is the only kind in which the feelings of the author are conveyed to me personally.
     
  5. Hombre-J

    Hombre-J Currently Ballsacked

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    There was another incredible poem, though I can't remember who it was by. It detailed the horrors of the war, and was written by a man who was killed the day before the war ended... I'll try to find it for you.
     
  6. GZero

    GZero No fear no sound!

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    In Flanders Fields - Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae
    In Flanders fields the poppies blow
    Between the crosses, row on row,
    That mark our place; and in the sky
    The larks, still bravely singing, fly
    Scarce heard amid the guns below.

    We are the Dead. Short days ago
    We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
    Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
    In Flanders fields.

    Take up our quarrel with the foe:
    To you from failing hands we throw
    The torch; be yours to hold it high.
    If ye break faith with us who die
    We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
    In Flanders fields.

    The Soldier - Robert Brooke
    If I should die, think only this of me:
    That there's some corner of a foreign field
    That is for ever England. There shall be
    In that rich earth a richer dust concealed;
    A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware,
    Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam,
    A body of England's, breathing English air,
    Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home.

    And think, this heart, all evil shed away,
    A pulse in the eternal mind, no less
    Gives somewhere back the thoughts by England given;
    Her sights and sounds; dreams happy as her day;
    And laughter, learnt of friends; and gentleness,
    In hearts at peace, under an English heaven
     
  7. GZero

    GZero No fear no sound!

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    Futility - Wilfred Owen
    Move him into the sun-
    Gently its touch awoke him once,
    At home, whispering of fields unsown.
    Always it woke him, even in France,
    Until this morning and this snow.
    If anything might rouse him now
    The kind old sun will know.

    Think how it wakes the seeds,-
    Woke, once, the clays of a cold star.
    Are limbs, so dear-achieved, are sides,
    Full-nerved- still warm- too hard to stir?
    Was it for this the clay grew tall?
    O what made fatuous sunbeams toil
    To break earth's sleep at all?


    Thanks ETHIX, this reminds me of visiting the war graves/battle sites in France. Seriously moving stuff, even for a 13 year old.
     
  8. Blurr

    Blurr Wasted Selection

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    tbh i ain't really thought about this poem since i studied it when i was 12, i do love my poetry, just a shame GCSE english ruined it for me,shit teaching and shit subject matter

    and ye, the spanish flu epidemic was nasty, it's part of the reasoning as to another one happening soon, bird/swine/monkey flu, 1914-1945 we're some bad years in europe, war, epidemic, depression, war again

    another astonishing little known fact, more russian troops died in WWII than all the other forces losses put together
     
  9. Radius

    Radius Give me back my passport u slags

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    Culture in the waffle section ? Inrellegent comment ? Rucking rell Raggy ?
    Good topic
     
  10. safety

    safety double safety

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  11. safety

    safety double safety

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    this bored me at school and it bores the fuck out of me now
     
  12. Borf™

    Borf™ Borf

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    Yeh, I remember doing this in school.

    Brilliant poem.