Veterans Day (formerly Armistice Day). 2005

. . . 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."

-- from "Dulce et decorum est" by Wilfred Owen (1917)

Translation: it is sweet and proper to die for your country.

Currently reading: Norton Anthology of English Literature
Listening to: Miles Davis