About the poet
Wilfred Owen was a British poet and soldier best known for his powerful and evocative combat poetry that brings the atrocities of World combat I to light. His writing exposes the cruelty, pain, and disillusionment that soldiers endure during battle, challenging the idealized portrayals of combat.
‘Strange Meeting’ was written by British poet Wilfred Owen. A soldier in World War I, Owen wrote this poem while serving the war. This poem is a result of a metamorphosis undergone byOwen and other soldier poets. They went through many changes as their exposure to the war. They witnessed the horror and pointless deaths in the war. Their poem expressed anger and frustration. Owen believed that all wars no matter the reason resulted in loss. Strange Meeting is perhaps his most poignant poem and strongest anti war poem. The title of the poem was inspired by a line from Shelley’s ‘The Revolt of Islam’. In the poem, Owen tells a story about two dead soldiers who met in hell after death. These soldiers had fought on opposite sides in war. Now that war is over, they can see how pointless it was. The poem takes place in a strange, dream like setting as if a nightmare.
Line by Line analysis
It seemed that out of battle I escaped Down some profound dull tunnel, long since scooped Through granites which titanic wars had groined.
In the beginning of the poem , the poetic persona has escaped the chaos of the battlefield and fallen into a dark tunnel perhaps dug long ago during ancient war. The word ‘titanic’ is used to show how massive the war was.
The speaker is leaving the horrors of war and entering a strange, quiet place. This place feels connected to the pain of past wars and prepares for the unusual meeting that comes next in the poem.
Yet also there encumbered sleepers groaned, Too fast in thought or death to be bestirred. Then, as I probed them, one sprang up, and stared With piteous recognition in fixed eyes, Lifting distressful hands, as if to bless. And by his smile, I knew that sullen hall,— By his dead smile I knew we stood in Hell.
In this strange and eerie place, the speaker observes many groaning figures, but they are already dead. When the speaker touches one of the bodies, it suddenly comes to life. These figures seem weighed down by heavy thoughts or death itself, unable to move or respond. However, as the speaker looks more closely, one of the figures rises and stares back, initiating a significant moment in the poem.
The figure looks at the speaker with sorrowful eyes and raises its hands in a gesture that could be interpreted as either a blessing or a plea for help. When the figure gives a lifeless, sad smile, the speaker realizes that they are in Hell—a dark, lifeless world. This realization brings a deeper sense of despair, as the sorrow in the figure’s eyes reveals that peace has not been found. Instead, the speaker has entered Hell after death.
With a thousand fears that vision's face was grained; Yet no blood reached there from the upper ground, And no guns thumped, or down the flues made moan. “Strange friend,” I said, “here is no cause to mourn.” “None,” said that other, “save the undone years,
The dead soldier, though filled with fear, shows no visible signs of battle wounds or violence. The usual sounds of war, such as gunfire, are absent in this strange place. The speaker refers to the figure as a “strange friend,” using an ironic combination of words that suggests both distance and a sense of connection. The speaker tries to comfort the soldier, telling him there is no need to mourn since the war is over. However, the soldier replies that there is, in fact, a reason for sorrow—the “undone years,” referring to the lost potential, unfulfilled dreams, and the life cut short by war.
The hopelessness. Whatever hope is yours, Was my life also; I went hunting wild After the wildest beauty in the world, Which lies not calm in eyes, or braided hair, But mocks the steady running of the hour, And if it grieves, grieves richlier than here
Like the soldier , the speaker once hoped for something better, perhaps a higher, more spiritual beauty beyond the horrors of war. Both longed for meaning, but in this hellish afterlife, reaching that higher beauty feels impossible. However, this pursuit now feels futile, as it was ultimately overshadowed by the horrors of war and death. The soldier explains that the beauty he once sought was not the simple, serene beauty found in calm eyes or well-arranged hair. Instead, it was a deeper, more intense beauty that defies the passage of time. If it caused sadness, it would be a much stronger and more meaningful sorrow than anything felt in life.
For by my glee might many men have laughed, And of my weeping something had been left, Which must die now. I mean the truth untold, The pity of war, the pity war distilled. Now men will go content with what we spoiled. Or, discontent, boil bloody, and be spilled. They will be swift with swiftness of the tigress. None will break ranks, though nations trek from progress.
The dead soldier deeply regrets all the things he never got to do in life. He thinks about how he could have made others happy, but now those chances are gone. He believes the truth about war must be told: war wastes everything, not just lives, but also land, homes, and futures. The soldier says that if he had been happy, others might have shared in that joy. If he had cried, his sadness might have stayed with him, but now it’s all gone. He calls this the “truth untold,” because he couldn’t express his true feelings before he died, and now it’s lost forever.
The soldier speaks about the “pity of war,” a deep sadness that war brings. He says war has concentrated this pity into something intense and painful. Now, people will either accept the damage caused by war and be content with what’s destroyed, or they will get angry and keep fighting, causing more bloodshed. Those who come after will have to live with the destruction left behind. The soldier says that future generations will act quickly and strongly, like a tigress. But even if things are going wrong or nations move backward, no one will stop or question what’s happening. People will keep following the same path without change.
Courage was mine, and I had mystery; Wisdom was mine, and I had mastery: To miss the march of this retreating world Into vain citadels that are not walled. Then, when much blood had clogged their chariot-wheels, I would go up and wash them from sweet wells, Even with truths that lie too deep for taint.
The soldier reflects on how he once had courage, wisdom, and a sense of control over his life. He feels that he had the wisdom to understand things and make decisions, but now, he has missed the chance to move forward with the world, as it seems to retreat or move away from progress. Instead, he describes his efforts as aiming for “vain citadels that are not walled,” meaning his ambitions were futile and unprotected, like trying to build something that cannot stand or endure. The soldier imagines that, after much destruction and bloodshed (“much blood had clogged their chariot-wheels”), he would go to clean the mess and restore what was lost. He believes he could purify the situation with “sweet wells” of truth—truths so pure and deep that they couldn’t be corrupted. He dreams of fixing the damage, but it’s clear that such ideals are impossible in the face of war’s devastation.
I would have poured my spirit without stint But not through wounds; not on the cess of war. Foreheads of men have bled where no wounds were.
The soldier expresses that he would have given all of himself to something meaningful, but not through violence or war. He didn’t want to offer his spirit through the suffering of battle. He observes that men’s foreheads have bled, not from physical wounds, but from the emotional and psychological pain of war, suggesting that the true scars of war go beyond the visible ones.
“I am the enemy you killed, my friend. I knew you in this dark: for so you frowned Yesterday through me as you jabbed and killed. I parried; but my hands were loath and cold. Let us sleep now. . . .”
In these final lines, the dead soldier reveals that he is the man the speaker killed and refers to him as “my friend.” This suggests that in death, the separation caused by war no longer matters. The soldier recognizes the speaker’s face in the darkness of the afterlife, which carries the same pain they shared on the battlefield. He describes how he tried to defend himself (“I parried”), but his hands were weak and unwilling to fight, showing his fear and reluctance. In the end, he asks to “sleep now,” seeking peace and an end to the violence. This moment highlights the tragic and pointless nature of war. When the soldier was killed, he tried to fight back, but his strength was gone. Now, in the shadowy afterlife, all the violence is over, and only the eternal sleep of death remains.