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poem 2003-03-17 - 11:16 a.m. War in the next 48 hours, I'm sure. Remember when he was campaigning, Bush kept talking about how we need to conduct our foreign affairs with more humility? Well, it turns out that was a bunch of bunk, which we all know now. But it seems that Bush & co. had this planned from the start--they may have laid out plans for a Pax Americana before he was even elected. I don't think it will happen, but suddenly the concept of cancelling the presidential election because of war and terrorism doesn't seem to be as impossible as it seemed a year ago. 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 tired, 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 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. --Wilfred Owen � Die Entfuehrung aus dem Serail (The Abduction From the Seraglio). Which Mozart Opera Does Your Life Most Resemble? brought to you by Quizilla |