There are two stories to tell here (at least):

One is best told not by us but by professionals, so below our story, you will find the story of Wilfred Owen and his poem Dulce et Decorum est, as taken from Wikipedia.
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dulce_et_Decorum_est

Our story of this project:
We were first exposed to Dulce et Decorum est when we heard the single In Dulce Decorum by The Damned in 01987.
Over the years it was a poem we often considered setting to music. It is as intelligent and powerful an anti-war statement as any we have ever heard.

It officially went onto our to do list to set to music a few years ago, when we started working with inhuman orchestras. Our to do list is ridiculous, however, so it languished.
Then Russia invaded Ukraine.
And setting Dulce et Decorum est to music went to the top of our to do list. Randolph read the poem and we transcribed his reading into MIDI notation for inhuman chamber ensemble. That is the lead track here.
Then we realized the most fitting way to do this would be collaboratively.

So, we began asking friends and collaborators to recite the poem and send us the files. Marcos read his version on his phone and sent it to us. We again transcribed the recitation and set the voice to the chamber ensemble interpretation of it.

As more readings arrive they will be scored and added.

And we ask that you record yourself reading it and send us the file to set to music.
Or maybe you are a musician and you want to set your reading to your own music. We will post that here, as well. We need not be involved in the musicking in any way.

We just believe that as many humans as possible should record this poem and share it.
That won't change anything. Wars will still happen. But voices raised in protest always matter somehow, somewhere, in some way.

Dulce et Decorum est by Wilfred Owen

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.

"Dulce et Decorum est" is a poem written by Wilfred Owen during World War I, and published posthumously in 1920. The Latin title is taken from Ode 3.2 (Valor) of the Roman poet Horace and means "it is sweet and fitting". It is followed by pro patria mori, which means "to die for one's country". One of Owen's most renowned works, the poem is known for its horrific imagery and condemnation of war. It was drafted at Craiglockhart in the first half of October 1917 and later revised, probably at Scarborough but possibly Ripon, between January and March 1918. The earliest surviving manuscript is dated 8 October 1917 and addressed to his mother, Susan Owen, with the message: "Here is a gas poem done yesterday (which is not private, but not final)."

The text presents a vignette from the front lines of World War I; specifically, of British soldiers attacked with chlorine gas. In the rush when the shells with poison gas explode, one soldier is unable to get his mask on in time. The speaker of the poem describes the gruesome effects of the gas on the man and concludes that, if one were to see first-hand the reality of war, one might not repeat mendacious platitudes like dulce et decorum est pro patria mori: "How sweet and honourable it is to die for one's country". These horrors are what inspired Owen to write the poem, and because he did, he was able to voice his own opinion on the atrocities of war, and what it was like to be in those very situations.

Throughout the poem, and particularly strong in the last stanza, there is a running commentary, a letter to Jessie Pope, a civilian propagandist of World War I, who encouraged—"with such high zest"—young men to join the battle, through her poetry, e.g. "Who's for the game?"

The first draft of the poem, indeed, was dedicated to Pope. A later revision amended this to "a certain Poetess", though this did not make it into the final publication, either, as Owen apparently decided to address his poem to the larger audience of war supporters in general such as the women who handed out white feathers during the conflict to men whom they regarded as cowards for not being at the front. In the last stanza, however, the original intention can still be seen in Owen's address.

The title of this poem means 'It is sweet and fitting'. The title and the Latin exhortation of the final two lines are drawn from the phrase "Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori" written by the Roman poet Horace (Quintus Horatius Flaccus):

Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori:
mors et fugacem persequitur virum
nec parcit inbellis iuventae
poplitibus timidoque tergo.


How sweet and fitting it is to die for one's country:
Death pursues the man who flees,
spares not the hamstrings or cowardly backs
Of battle-shy youths.
—Ode III.2.13

These words were well known and often quoted by supporters of the war near its inception and were, therefore, of particular relevance to soldiers of the era. In 1913, the line Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori was inscribed on the wall of the chapel of the Royal Military College, Sandhurst. In the final stanza of his poem, Owen refers to this as "The old Lie".

In May 1917 Owen was diagnosed with neurasthenia (shell-shock) and sent to Craiglockhart hospital near Edinburgh to recover. Whilst receiving treatment at the hospital, Owen became the editor of the hospital magazine, The Hydra, and met the poet Siegfried Sassoon, who was to have a major impact upon his life and work and to play a crucial role in the dissemination of Owen’s poetry following his untimely death in 1918, aged 25. Owen wrote a number of his most famous poems at Craiglockhart, including several drafts of "Dulce et Decorum est", "Soldier's Dream", and "Anthem for Doomed Youth". Sassoon advised and encouraged Owen, and this is evident in a number of drafts which include Sassoon’s annotations.

Only five of Owen's poems were published in his lifetime. However, after his death, his heavily-worked manuscript drafts were brought together and published in two different editions by Siegfried Sassoon with the assistance of Edith Sitwell (in 1920) and Edmund Blunden (in 1931).

Owen was killed in action on 4 November 1918 during the crossing of the Sambre–Oise Canal, exactly one week (almost to the hour) before the signing of the Armistice which ended the war, and was promoted to the rank of Lieutenant the day after his death. His mother received the telegram informing her of his death on Armistice Day, as the church bells in Shrewsbury were ringing out in celebration. Owen is buried at Ors Communal Cemetery, Ors, in northern France.