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 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.
Analysis/Commentary
This poem, as many others, is a hard critique of the war. This one especially concentrates on the propagandathat occour in the various nations in wich they say that it is sweetand honorable to die for their country (dulce et decorum est pro patria mori). The real meaning of this poem is not clear till the very end where the last line completes the latin sentencethat gave the title to the poem. Before revealing the whole sentence the poet describes the horrible conditions of the soldiers marching and the most terrible death that they could witness or encounter on the battlefield of WWI: gas. He implicitly tells thet there is nothing of heroic when dying killed by gas while retreating towards the supply lines (L.3).in this poem there is a tight rhyme skeme (ABAB), but towards the end it starts to fail and by the time you realize the true meaning of the poem you will also notice that the rhymes accompaign you through the decline and falsity of the initial sentence.
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 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.
Analysis/Commentary
This poem, as many others, is a hard critique of the war. This one especially concentrates on the propagandathat occour in the various nations in wich they say that it is sweetand honorable to die for their country (dulce et decorum est pro patria mori). The real meaning of this poem is not clear till the very end where the last line completes the latin sentencethat gave the title to the poem. Before revealing the whole sentence the poet describes the horrible conditions of the soldiers marching and the most terrible death that they could witness or encounter on the battlefield of WWI: gas. He implicitly tells thet there is nothing of heroic when dying killed by gas while retreating towards the supply lines (L.3).in this poem there is a tight rhyme skeme (ABAB), but towards the end it starts to fail and by the time you realize the true meaning of the poem you will also notice that the rhymes accompaign you through the decline and falsity of the initial sentence.
Nessun commento:
Posta un commento