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Post by bobthecat on Nov 10, 2008 12:58:01 GMT
Wilfred Owen 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 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.
I say no more, it says it all. BTC
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Post by redfred on Nov 10, 2008 13:34:37 GMT
Defies imagination - Enough said !
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Post by GuyDenning on Nov 10, 2008 18:29:14 GMT
This period of English poets is the one I read the most. Wilfred Owen died just a week before the war was over. Here's another - this time by Siegfried Sassoon.
Suicide in the Trenches
I knew a simple soldier boy Who grinned at life in empty joy, Slept soundly through the lonesome dark, And whistled early with the lark.
In winter trenches, cowed and glum, With crumps and lice and lack of rum, He put a bullet through his brain. No one spoke of him again.
You smug-faced crowds with kindling eye Who cheer when soldier lads march by, Sneak home and pray you'll never know The hell where youth and laughter go.
Also, if you're interested in checking it out, you might want to listen to Benjamin Britten's War Requiem which uses Owen's poetry directly. The 'Dies Irae' is an amazing piece of music and I frequently paint to the whole thing.
Cheers for this thread bobthecat
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Post by bobthecat on Nov 10, 2008 19:20:57 GMT
I have just listened to the piece. It tells its own story. Thank you for sharing that with us. One piece i aways listen to on or around this time of year is Samuel Barbers adagio for strings, the sadness and melancholy touches my soul. It moves me. Please listen to it and i hope it touches you all in some way. BTC
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Post by photoxtc on Nov 10, 2008 21:34:19 GMT
BTC, Samuel Barber's 'adagio for strings' is Amazing!!! Thanks for turning us on to that... I'll have to bust out some wine, turn down the lights and looks at the Denning paintings, I think all will go perfect with one another... this version below really does it for me...
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Post by heavyconsumer on Nov 11, 2008 4:16:51 GMT
I have just listened to the piece. It tells its own story. Thank you for sharing that with us. One piece i aways listen to on or around this time of year is Samuel Barbers adagio for strings, the sadness and melancholy touches my soul. It moves me. Please listen to it and i hope it touches you all in some way. BTC A classic piece of musical composition, they don't come any better. And thanks for posting the poetry, it's a beautifully dark and powerful rhyme. It's always good to be introduced to quality art in any form of course. It's impossible to read that, without a significant emotional response registering. Thanks again.
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