Bent double, like old beggars under

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,
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.

ผลลัพธ์ (อังกฤษ) 2:

Bent double, like beggars under sacks Old,
Knock-kneed, coughing like Hags, we Cursed Through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our Backs,
And towards our Rest Distant began to Trudge.
Men marched asleep. Lost many had 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 panes and Misty Green Light Thick, 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,. Innocent incurable sores on tongues, - My friend, You would not tell with such High zest To children Ardent Some desperate for Glory, The Old Lie: Dulce et Decorum est Pro patria mori.

ผลลัพธ์ (อังกฤษ) 3:

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.

! Quick GAS, Gas!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. - A
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 me at,,, 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 jolt the, every, 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.