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Russian Skeletons "Dulce et Decorum est" Premium 250gsm T-Shirt – SIZE XXXL
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Russian Skeletons "Dulce et Decorum est" Premium 250gsm T-Shirt – SIZE XXXL

Russian Skeletons "Dulce et Decorum est" Premium 250gsm T-Shirt – SIZE XXXL

$10.48

Original: $29.95

-65%
Russian Skeletons "Dulce et Decorum est" Premium 250gsm T-Shirt – SIZE XXXL

$29.95

$10.48

The Story

Premium quality heavyweight t-shirt, durable 250gsm cotton fabric, giving it a substantial, high-quality feel compared to standard lightweight tees. Standard Fit, True American Sizing.

Design: Features Russian translation of the famous World War I poem "Dulce et Decorum est" by Wilfred Owen (1917).

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.

Russian Skeletons "Dulce et Decorum est" Premium 250gsm T-Shirt – SIZE XXXL - Image 2

Details & Craftsmanship

Every detail has been carefully considered to bring you the perfect product.

Russian Skeletons "Dulce et Decorum est" Premium 250gsm T-Shirt – SIZE XXXL - Image 3

Details & Craftsmanship

Every detail has been carefully considered to bring you the perfect product.

Russian Skeletons "Dulce et Decorum est" Premium 250gsm T-Shirt – SIZE XXXL - Image 4

Details & Craftsmanship

Every detail has been carefully considered to bring you the perfect product.

Description

Premium quality heavyweight t-shirt, durable 250gsm cotton fabric, giving it a substantial, high-quality feel compared to standard lightweight tees. Standard Fit, True American Sizing.

Design: Features Russian translation of the famous World War I poem "Dulce et Decorum est" by Wilfred Owen (1917).

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.