|
NorthernGent -> RE: Lads and Lasses of England, do your duty..... (3/23/2007 5:46:51 PM)
|
quote:
ORIGINAL: darkinshadows
Oh Good God - you just knew you would hear the boring shit from me didn't you? Offically, there are no set words/lyrics to 'God Save the Queen'. [:)] It's not written by a german. [;)] It's adopted as 'the national anthem', but its actually a patriotic hymn. [8|] It's never been offically recognised in anyway whatsoever as the national anthem by any Royal decree or Parliament in the UK.[:D] I prefere Land of Hope and Glory on Proms night myself...
Well, I've got to hold my hands up to this one, it ain't necessarily German. They have the same song with a different language, but it's not clear which came first. Anyway, it's rubbish all the same. Complete bollocks, I've written better songs after a night down the pub.
Apparently it could be French in origin. Typical eh...they're always sticking their beaks in.
What about this:
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 gas-shells dropping softly 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
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.
|
|
|
|
