'Dulce et Decorum Est', poem by Wilfred Owen, 1918. Wilfred Owen is now universally regarded as the most important of the war poets, although few of his poems were published during the war itself. This is the autograph manuscript of one of his most vivid and biting poems, 'Dulce et Decorum Est' which was written a few weeks before his death, which occurred only a week before the Armistice. The title refers to an old motto, 'Dulce et decorum est Pro patria mori', (It is sweet and fitting to lay down one's life for one's 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 ti...
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'Dulce et Decorum Est', poem by Wilfred Owen, 1918. Wilfred Owen is now universally regarded as the most important of the war poets, although few of his poems were published during the war itself. This is the autograph manuscript of one of his most vivid and biting poems, 'Dulce et Decorum Est' which was written a few weeks before his death, which occurred only a week before the Armistice. The title refers to an old motto, 'Dulce et decorum est Pro patria mori', (It is sweet and fitting to lay down one's life for one's 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 flound'ring 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...'.

Date

1918

Crédit

Photo12/Heritage Images/Heritage Art

Notre référence

HRM25A15_134

Model release

NA

Property release

NA

Licence

Droits gérés

Format disponible

51,7Mo (2,5Mo) / 29,1cm x 44,6cm / 3433 x 5268 (300dpi)

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