Musee des Beaux Arts
About suffering they were never wrong,
The Old Masters: how well they
Its human position; how it takes
While someone else is eating or opening a window or just walking dully along;
How, when the aged are reverently, passionately
For the miraculous birth, there always must
Children who did not specially want it to happen,
On a pond at the edge of the wood:
They never
That even the dreadful martyrdom must run its
Anyhow in a corner, some untidy
Where the dogs go on with their doggy life and the torturer's
Scratches its innocent behind on a tree.
In Brueghel's Icarus for instance: how everything turns
Quite leisurely from the disaster; the ploughman
Have heard the splash, the forsaken cry,
But for him it was not an important failure; the sun
As it had to on the white legs disappearing into the
Water; and the expensive delicate ship that must have
Something amazing, a boy falling out of the sky,
Had somewhere to get to and sailed calmly on.
W H Auden
Другие работы автора
For What As Easy
For what as For what thought small, For what is Because between,
We Too Had Known Golden Hours
We, too, had known golden When body and soul were in tune, Had danced with our true By the light of a full moon,
O Tell Me The Truth About Love
Some say love's a little boy, And some say it's a bird, Some say it makes the world go around, Some say that's absurd,
In Memory Of WB Yeats
He disappeared in the dead of winter: The brooks were frozen, the airports almost deserted, And snow disfigured the public statues; The mercury sank in the mouth of the dying day