Dulce et Decorum est: it is a sweet and computable thing. The title of the poem number one suggested to me a poem of brave glory and the enamour of state of war; however, as I began to glance over, the words frightened me. all piece of literary work I have read about WW1 can not match the ferocity of Owens words. The first dissever drew me in and I can literally feel the suffering of the soldiers.
Line one of paragraph two uses an kindle word choice An ecstasy of fumbling its as if Owen was in such a state he dictum his surround in slow motion. He describes one man, As infra a green sea, I saw him drowning (line 6 paragraph two). I cannot imagine being in such an induce as that and Owens words paint me vivid pictures.
The last paragraph is full of bitterness and irony, The old lie: Dulce et decorum est pro Patria Mori (line 11 paragraph 4) meaning it is a sweet and honorable thing to die for ones country, is dripping with it.
Lines 8-12 forewarn and say that if you saw what he had, you would not proclaim with such pride to children eager for some desperate glory (line 10 paragraph 4) as in young, full spirited men who wish to shinny simply because they feel it is glorified; because he truly knows what war is, and it is not glamorous or glorified but a vile and evil thing which brings nothing but haunt dreams and pain.
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