W H Auden

W H Auden

Wystan Hugh Auden (21 February 1907 – 29 September 1973) was an Anglo-American poet. Auden's poetry was noted for its stylistic and technical achievement, its engagement with politБольше
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#what2 мин. чтения

O What Is That Sound

O what is that sound which so thrills the
Down in the valley drumming, drumming
Only the scarlet soldiers, dear,
The soldiers coming

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#three1 мин. чтения

Three Short Poems

"The underground
Are, as the dead prefer them,
Always tortuous
""When he looked the cave in the eye,

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#old2 мин. чтения

Old Peoples Home

All are limitory, but each has her ownnuance of damage
The elite can dress and decent themselves, are ambulant with a single stick, adroitto read a book all through, or play the slow movements of easy sonatas
(Yet, perhaps their verycarn...

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#musee2 мин. чтения

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;

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#лады2 мин. чтения

Lady Weeping at the Crossroads

Lady, weeping at the crossroads,
Would you meet your
In the twilight with his greyhounds,
And the hawk on his glove

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#give1 мин. чтения

Give me a doctor

Give me a doctor partridge-plump,
Short in the leg and broad in the rump,
An endomorph with gentle
Who'll never make absurd

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#miranda2 мин. чтения

Miranda

My dear one is mine as mirrors are lonely,
As the poor and sad are real to the good king,
And the high green hill sits always by the sea
Up jumped the Black Man behind the elder tree,

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#where2 мин. чтения

O Where Are You Going

"O where are you going
" said reader to rider, "That valley is fatal where furnaces burn, Yonder's the midden whose odours will madden, That gap is the grave where the tall return
" "O do you imagine," said ...

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#petition1 мин. чтения

Petition

Sir, no man's enemy, forgiving all But will his negative inversion, be prodigal:
Send to us power and light, a sovereign touch Curing the intolerable neural itch,
The exhaustion of weaning, the liar's quinsy,
And the distortions of ...

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#refugee blues3 мин. чтения

Refugee Blues

Say this city has ten million souls,
Some are living in mansions, some are living in holes:
Yet there's no place for us, my dear, yet there's no place for us
Once we had a country and we thought it fair,

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#they1 мин. чтения

They Wondered Why the Fruit had Been Forbidden

They wondered why the fruit had been forbidden:
It taught them nothing new
They hid their pride,
But did not listen much when they were chidden:

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#have1 мин. чтения

I Have No GunBut I Can Spit

Some thirty inches from my
The frontier of my Person goes,
And all the untilled air
Is private pagus or demesne

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