If in some smothering dreams you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in.
And watched 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 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.
9 answers
The fourth stanza is all leading up to the final lines. How does Owen go about doing that?
Is that the fourth stanza?
Are these the final lines? "Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori"
Are these the final lines? "Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori"
yes that's the fourth stanza
i think so i don't know
the whole text is
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 disappointed shells 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 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 watched 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 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.
“It is sweet and right (honorable) to die for your country.”
i think so i don't know
the whole text is
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 disappointed shells 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 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 watched 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 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.
“It is sweet and right (honorable) to die for your country.”
What does the fourth stanza describe?
our speaker doesn't even care whether we could actually experience the horrors of battle or not.
He knows that we can't share those experiences with him.
He's just wishing that we could share the dreams of the experiences of battle, but we can't do that.Our speaker's going into detail, forcing "you" (or, well, us) to imagine just how horrible his dreams can be.
The body of the dream-soldier writhes in surreal agony.He wants to ram home just how absolutely degrading, humiliating, and surreal the destruction of the human body can be.
Within minutes, the body of a young man turns into a mass of aging sores – almost as a version of cancer moved through his body at warp speed.His speaker is deep in the memory of his own dream – and he's dragging us along for the ride.after drawing us deep into the hell of his personal experiences, our speaker lashes out at the those who helped get him into this mess.
As he bitterly reflects, the war efforts begin at home.
Lots of people are willing to convince young (and, he suggests, gullible) "children" that they can find glory on the battlefield.
He knows that we can't share those experiences with him.
He's just wishing that we could share the dreams of the experiences of battle, but we can't do that.Our speaker's going into detail, forcing "you" (or, well, us) to imagine just how horrible his dreams can be.
The body of the dream-soldier writhes in surreal agony.He wants to ram home just how absolutely degrading, humiliating, and surreal the destruction of the human body can be.
Within minutes, the body of a young man turns into a mass of aging sores – almost as a version of cancer moved through his body at warp speed.His speaker is deep in the memory of his own dream – and he's dragging us along for the ride.after drawing us deep into the hell of his personal experiences, our speaker lashes out at the those who helped get him into this mess.
As he bitterly reflects, the war efforts begin at home.
Lots of people are willing to convince young (and, he suggests, gullible) "children" that they can find glory on the battlefield.
The fourth stanza paints the horror of a soldier dying a ghastly death. Yet, ironically, he finishes the stanza by saying that death is sweet and it's honorable to die for your country.
thank you so much :)
This is the ENTIRE last part of that poem. This is what it's all leading up to. I've added emphasis in bold.
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.
“It is sweet and right (honorable) to die for your country.
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.
“It is sweet and right (honorable) to die for your country.
http://www.warpoetry.co.uk/owen1.html
1 answer