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What does blood shod mean and how does it relate to limped on DULce et decorum est?
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∙ 6y ago
"Blood shod" in "Dulce et Decorum Est" refers to soldiers whose boots are caked in blood as they march. This vivid imagery highlights the physical and emotional toll of war. The phrase portrays the soldiers as exhausted and degraded, emphasizing the harsh reality of warfare that challenges the glorification of war portrayed in the Latin phrase "Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori" (It is sweet and fitting to die for one's country).
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What is the significance of the last sentence in dulce et decorum est?
The last stanza is intended to address supporters of war or the reader in general. Owen's explains that people probably wouldn't push so much for war if they had actually witnessed the horrible images of war such as the men dying as "blood comes gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs, Obscene as cancer..." (lines 21-22). If people really knew the abominations of war then they wouldn't tell others "How sweet and fitting it is to die for one's country," the translation of "Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori" (lines 27-28).
How is it achieved Dulce ET Decorum Est?
"Dulce et Decorum Est" by Wilfred Owen portrays the horrors of war, particularly through vivid imagery and a biting critique of the glorification of war. Owen uses powerful descriptions to convey the physical and emotional toll that soldiers face on the battlefield, ultimately challenging the idea that it is sweet and honorable to die for one's country. This anti-war sentiment is underscored by the poem's emotional impact and realistic depictions of warfare.
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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 backsAnd towards our distant rest began to trudge.Men marched asleep. Many had lost their bootsBut limped on , blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hootsOf tried, outstripped Five-Nines 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 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. If in some smothering dreams you too could paceBehind 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 bloodCome gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cudOf vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,--My friend, you would not tell with such high zestTo children ardent for some desperate glory,The old Lie: Dulce et decorum estPro patria mori. Wilfred Owen (1893-1918) 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 backsAnd towards our distant rest began to trudge.Men marched asleep. Many had lost their bootsBut limped on , blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hootsOf tried, outstripped Five-Nines 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 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. If in some smothering dreams you too could paceBehind 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 bloodCome gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cudOf vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,--My friend, you would not tell with such high zestTo children ardent for some desperate glory,The old Lie: Dulce et decorum estPro patria mori. Wilfred Owen (1893-1918)
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dulce et decorum est is about the reality of war and how it isn't actually sweet and fitting to die for your country. "Dulce et Decorum est Pro patria mori" means "It is sweet and fitting to die for ones country" and Owen refers to this as 'The old lie'
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