This week, let’s dive into a thought-provoking poetry question: Which poet originally penned the phrase, ‘dulce et decorum est pro patria mori’? While the war poet Wilfred Owen has imbued these words with profound significance in the last century, their origins can be traced back to a much older, distinctly different poet.
Meaning
Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori translates from Latin to ‘it is sweet and fitting to die for one’s country.’ The term patria is the root of our modern word ‘patriotic,’ signifying ‘fatherland,’ and it is etymologically connected to the Latin noun pater, meaning ‘father.’
In this context, ‘decorum’ is sometimes interpreted as ‘honourable’ or ‘noble,’ reflecting a sentiment that remains relevant today. Even in contemporary English, if someone’s behaviour is described as ‘decorous,’ it implies that it is appropriate for the occasion. The word ‘decorate’ is often associated with beautifying spaces, but it also holds a more specialized meaning: to decorate a soldier with medals, thereby honouring their valour and commendable actions in the line of duty.
Origins
This notable phrase first appeared in the works of Roman poet Horace, specifically in his Odes. Horace’s ode urges Roman citizens to cultivate military skills that will instill fear in their enemies, particularly the Parthians. He calls for Roman citizens to endure rigorous training in warfare and military discipline, so that their foes will tremble at the mere sight of them.
Wilfred Owen’s Poem
In October 1917, Wilfred Owen penned a letter to his mother from Craiglockhart Hospital, stating, ‘Here is a gas poem, done yesterday… the famous Latin tag (from Horace, Odes) means, of course, it is sweet and meet to die for one’s country. Sweet! and decorous!’ Although he drafted the poem during that October, the existing drafts of Dulce et Decorum Est indicate that Owen meticulously revised and refined it several times before his untimely death the following November, just one week prior to the Armistice.
The Old Lie
Owen’s poem Dulce et Decorum Est vividly illustrates the horror of a poison gas attack endured by a group of soldiers. In a particularly harrowing moment, one soldier is unable to secure his gas mask in time and tragically succumbs to the deadly mustard gas unleashed by the enemy.
The poem concludes with the poignant lines:
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.
But who is this ‘my friend’ that Owen refers to? In this final stanza, Owen employs brilliant irony to critique the patriotic poets of his time, particularly Jessie Pope, who are known for their jingoistic verse that encouraged young men to enlist and ‘do their part for king and country.’
Owen argues that if these poets truly understood the grim realities of war and were forced to relive the traumatic experiences that haunted him day and night, they would be incapable of composing such pro-war poetry. They would not be able to propagate the ‘Old Lie’ of Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori to impressionable youths, some of whom were so young they still qualified as ‘children.’ Many of these boys even lied about their age just to enlist, driven by fervent aspirations for glory.
Beyond Owen
Wilfred Owen was not the only modern poet to subvert Horace’s once-jingoistic words. Just three years after Owen drafted Dulce et Decorum Est, the modernist poet Ezra Pound (1885-1972) crafted Hugh Selwyn Mauberley (1920), a remarkable long poem that foreshadows T. S. Eliot’s more renowned The Waste Land in several intriguing ways. (Eliot’s poem was published in 1922, with Pound aiding in the editing of its initial drafts.)
Pound’s poem serves as both a critique of the 1890s and the dead-end of English Aestheticism, represented by figures such as Lionel Johnson and the Rhymers’ Club, as well as an expression of profound outrage over the senseless deaths during the First World War. In a striking declaration, Pound states that many of those who perished in the conflict died ‘patria, non dulce non et décor.’ There was nothing sweet or noble about the industrial slaughter of young men on the relentless fields of the Western Front.