11:49 amDulce 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 (1917/1918) |
running to stand still
October 24th, 2011
11:24 pmpēdējā laikā biedri, ar kuriem daudz vairāk pavadīju laiku pagājušajā gadā, man saka, ka mani vairs neredz un ka es vienmēr izskatos nogurusi, un es arī jūtos kā tāds zombijiņš, it sevišķi šobrīd, midterms and stuff, bet tomēr ir tādi brīži, kad man kāds priekšā sacer pasaku, kad saprotu, ka viss taču ir kārtībā. sūtu pastkartes, rīt iešu garderobes atjaunošanas ekskursijā, un es mācos kvalitatīvi pavadīt laiku vienatnē. jo galu galā.. it's a fair price to be alone, it sevišķi ja tev vienmēr apkārt ir vismaz desmit cilvēki.un vēl es mācos iet gulēt. varbūt beidzot ir pienācis tas laiks manā dzīvē, kad sākšu iet gulēt. apzināti un pašsaprotami. |
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