I get the feeling that W H Auden might be turning in his grave. Or, maybe he’d forgive me for learning using his work. Who knows.
The loss of maternal protection
Make it all stop, send the internet down
Keep the dog from howling, pet the cuddly clown.
Silence the radio and arrange the lilys right,
Bring out the coffin don’t let the kiddies fight.
The porch holds the flowers, brings attention to this day
Neighbours pay respects in their own private way
The men wear their best and polish up their shoes
The women a splash of colour as she always beat the blues
His mum, my friend, her mum, your aunt
Our days off sick your birthday charm
Holidays away and nights we had at home
Your love a constant shelter: now I’m alone.
Give up the fight now, surrender everyone
Let your ambition slide and admit that your done
Pour away your hopes and flush your dreams away
For meaning can’t be found in the cold light of today.
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good. By W H Auden