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War Poem Dulce Et Decorum Est by Wilfred Owen: Pro Patria Mori
War Poem Dulce Et Decorum Est by Wilfred Owen: Pro Patria Mori
By Wilfred Owen
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed In all my dreams before my helpless sight,
through sludge,
He plunges at me, guttering, choking,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our drowning.
backs,
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; And watch the white eyes writhing in his
all blind; face,
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots His hanging face, like a devil’s sick of sin;
Of gas-shells dropping softly behind. If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time, Of vile, incurable sores on innocent
tongues,—
But someone still was yelling out and
stumbling My friend, you would not tell with such high
zest
And flound’ring like a man in fire or lime.—
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
Dim through the misty panes and thick
green light, The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
by Robinson Jeffers
That public men publish falsehoods Man plays his part; the cold passion for truth
This republic, Europe, Asia. Struggle for power, and women perhaps for
fame,
9/11
by Guillermo Veloso
Mathematics
By Funom Makama