The Hero
'Jack fell as he'd have wished,' the mother said,
And folded up* the letter that she'd read. plia
'The Colonel writes so nicely.' Something broke
In the tired voice that quivered* to a choke*. Tremblait - étranglement
She half looked up. 'We mothers are so proud
Of our dead soldiers.' Then her face was bowed*. Penchée
And folded up* the letter that she'd read. plia
'The Colonel writes so nicely.' Something broke
In the tired voice that quivered* to a choke*. Tremblait - étranglement
She half looked up. 'We mothers are so proud
Of our dead soldiers.' Then her face was bowed*. Penchée
Quietly the Brother Officer went out.
He'd told the poor old dear some gallant lies
That she would nourish all her days, no doubt
For while he coughed* and mumbled*, her weak eyes toussa - marmonna
Had shone with gentle triumph, brimmed* with joy, bordés
Because he'd been so brave, her glorious boy.
He'd told the poor old dear some gallant lies
That she would nourish all her days, no doubt
For while he coughed* and mumbled*, her weak eyes toussa - marmonna
Had shone with gentle triumph, brimmed* with joy, bordés
Because he'd been so brave, her glorious boy.
He thought how 'Jack', cold-footed, useless swine*, porc
Had panicked down the trench* that night the mine tranchée
Had panicked down the trench* that night the mine tranchée
Went up at Wicked Corner; how he'd tried
To get sent home, and how, at last, he died,
Blown to small bits. And no one seemed to care
Except that lonely woman with white hair.
Blown to small bits. And no one seemed to care
Except that lonely woman with white hair.
Siegfried Sassoon, 1917
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Informations sur le poète :
Siegfried Sassoon est un poète anglais qui fut soldat durant la première guerre mondiale. Au sein de son régiment, il était connu sous le nom de "mad Jack" car il impressionnait par sa bravoure sur le front. Il fut décoré deux fois. Dans de nombreux poèmes, il dénonce le mensonge de la nation, de l'armée, du gouvernement, des journaux et de la propagande sur l'héroïsme des soldats dans les tranchées.
Contrairement à ce que le titre "the hero" nous fait penser, le poème parle d'un lâche qui avait peur de mourir et qui avait essayé de se faire renvoyer à la maison. (Beaucoup de soldats se blessaient volontairement pour pouvoir rentrer. D'autres se suicidaient ne supportant pas l'enfer de cette guerre.)
Explication linéaire :
1ère strophe :
La mère du "héros" reçoit une lettre du Colonel lui annonçant le décès de son fils. Les officiers se devaient d'écrire des lettres de condoléances aux familles. Cette femme parle au nom de toutes les mères et de tous les décès comme pour minimiser sa propre peine mais en le disant son visage se baisse, résigné.
2ème strophe :
Le terme de "Brother Officer" est utilisé comme si, dans l'armée, il n'y avait que des frères. C'est un terme de camaraderie.
"coughed and mumbled" le soldat est mal à l'aise pour présenter ses condoléances d'autant plus avec les termes qu'il utilise dans la 3ème strophe.
La mère est fière de son fils et de ce que lui dit le soldat mais ce ne sont que des mensonges "lies" pour que la mère puisse continuer à vivre...
3ème strophe :
Opposition du verbe "told" (2ème strophe) et "thought" (3ème strophe).
Le soldat repense à la lâcheté de Jack (opposé de Sassoon) avec les terme "swine", "cool-footed" et "panicked".
Il parle des tentatives des soldats de rentrer en se blessant eux-mêmes. Pratique assez courante.
Ceux qui étaient démasqués étaient fusillés.
Opposition entre le titre "the hero" et la mort peu glorieuse de Jack "blown to small bits".
Et puis tout s'arrête, tout le monde se moque de la mort de Jack ou des autres soldats sauf cette femme, seule et vieille.
The Hero
'Jack fell as he'd have wished,' the mother said,
And folded up the letter that she'd read.
'The Colonel writes so nicely.' Something broke
In the tired voice that quavered to a choke.
She half looked up. 'We mothers are so proud
Of our dead soldiers.' Then her face was bowed.
Quietly the Brother Officer went out.
He'd told the poor old dear some gallant lies
That she would nourish all her days, no doubt
For while he coughed and mumbled, her weak eyes
Had shone with gentle triumph, brimmed with joy,
Because he'd been so brave, her glorious boy.
He thought how 'Jack', cold-footed, useless swine,
Had panicked down the trench that night the mine
Went up at Wicked Corner; how he'd tried
To get sent home, and how, at last, he died,
Blown to small bits. And no one seemed to care
Except that lonely woman with white hair.
- See more at: http://allpoetry.com/poem/8499075-The-Hero-by-Siegfried-Sassoon#sthash.zbs8ziDz.dpuf
And folded up the letter that she'd read.
'The Colonel writes so nicely.' Something broke
In the tired voice that quavered to a choke.
She half looked up. 'We mothers are so proud
Of our dead soldiers.' Then her face was bowed.
Quietly the Brother Officer went out.
He'd told the poor old dear some gallant lies
That she would nourish all her days, no doubt
For while he coughed and mumbled, her weak eyes
Had shone with gentle triumph, brimmed with joy,
Because he'd been so brave, her glorious boy.
He thought how 'Jack', cold-footed, useless swine,
Had panicked down the trench that night the mine
Went up at Wicked Corner; how he'd tried
To get sent home, and how, at last, he died,
Blown to small bits. And no one seemed to care
Except that lonely woman with white hair.
The Hero
'Jack fell as he'd have wished,' the mother said,
And folded up* the letter that she'd read. plier
'The Colonel writes so nicely.' Something broke
In the tired voice that quivered* to a choke*. Trembler - étranglement
She half looked up. 'We mothers are so proud
Of our dead soldiers.' Then her face was bowed*. pencher
And folded up* the letter that she'd read. plier
'The Colonel writes so nicely.' Something broke
In the tired voice that quivered* to a choke*. Trembler - étranglement
She half looked up. 'We mothers are so proud
Of our dead soldiers.' Then her face was bowed*. pencher
Quietly the Brother Officer went out.
He'd told the poor old dear some gallant lies
That she would nourish all her days, no doubt
For while he coughed* and mumbled*, her weak eyes tousser - marmonner
Had shone with gentle triumph, brimmed* with joy, bordés
Because he'd been so brave, her glorious boy.
He'd told the poor old dear some gallant lies
That she would nourish all her days, no doubt
For while he coughed* and mumbled*, her weak eyes tousser - marmonner
Had shone with gentle triumph, brimmed* with joy, bordés
Because he'd been so brave, her glorious boy.
He thought how 'Jack', cold-footed, useless swine*, porc
Had panicked down the trench* that night the mine
Went up at Wicked Corner; how he'd tried
To get sent home, and how, at last, he died,
Blown to small bits. And no one seemed to care
Except that lonely woman with white hair.
Had panicked down the trench* that night the mine
Went up at Wicked Corner; how he'd tried
To get sent home, and how, at last, he died,
Blown to small bits. And no one seemed to care
Except that lonely woman with white hair.
Siegfried Sassoon, 1917
