---
authors:
- Wilfred Owen
isoListDate: 2023-04-03
isoSourceDate: '1917'
language: en
original: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/46560/dulce-et-decorum-est
read_time_minutes: 1
summary: 'The old Lie: “Dulce et decorum est / Pro patria mori.”'
title: <em>Dulce et Decorum Est</em>
twitter: https://twitter.com/RodericDay/status/1643062271361310724
---
Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
<br>Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
<br>Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs,
<br>And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
<br>Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots,
<br>But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;
<br>Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
<br>Of gas-shells dropping softly behind.

Gas! GAS! Quick, boys!--An ecstasy of fumbling
<br>Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time,
<br>But someone still was yelling out and stumbling
<br>And flound’ring like a man in fire or lime.--
<br>Dim through the misty panes and thick green light,
<br>As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.

In all my dreams before my helpless sight,
<br>He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.

If in some smothering dreams, you too could pace
<br>Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
<br>And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
<br>His hanging face, like a devil’s sick of sin;
<br>If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
<br>Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
<br>Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
<br>Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,--
<br>My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
<br>To children ardent for some desperate glory,
<br>The old Lie: *Dulce et decorum est*
<br>*Pro patria mori.*
