Tag Archives: W.H. Auden

My favorite poem of all time, read by W. H. Auden himself.

Dear GOD. This is my favorite poem of all time, read by W. H. Auden himself.

I had no idea this recording existed.

Eric Robert Nolan reads W. H. Auden’s “The Average”

November 30, 2016.

 

“Their boots are heavy on the floor.”

“O What Is That Sound,” by W. H. Auden

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

O what is that light I see flashing so clear
Over the distance brightly, brightly?
Only the sun on their weapons, dear,
As they step lightly.

O what are they doing with all that gear,
What are they doing this morning, this morning?
Only their usual maneuvers, dear.
Or perhaps a warning.

O why have they left the road down there,
Why are they suddenly wheeling, wheeling?
Perhaps a change in their orders, dear.
Why are you kneeling?

O haven’t they stopped for the doctor’s care,
Haven’t they reined their horses, their horses?
Why, they are none of them wounded, dear.
None of these forces.

O is it the parson they want, with white hair,
Is it the parson, is it, is it?
No, they are passing his gateway, dear,
Without a visit.

O it must be the farmer who lives so near.
It must be the farmer so cunning, so cunning?
They have passed the farmyard already, dear,
And now they are running.

O where are you going? Stay with me here!
Were the vows you swore deceiving, deceiving?
No, I promised to love you, dear,
But I must be leaving.

O it’s broken the lock and splintered the door,
O it’s the gate where they’re turning, turning;
Their boots are heavy on the floor
And their eyes are burning.

 

 

 

“There is no such thing as the state.”

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“Weep no more but pity me, Fleet persistent shadow cast …”

“Postscript” (From W. H. Auden’s “The Sea and the Mirror”)

(Ariel to Caliban, Echo by the Prompter)

Weep no more but pity me,
Fleet persistent shadow cast
By your lameness,
caught at last,
Helplessly in love with you,
Elegance, art, fascination,
Fascinated by
Drab mortality;
Spare me a humiliation,
To your faults be true:
I can sing as you reply
…I

Wish for nothing lest you mar
The perfection in these eyes
Whose entire devotion lies
At the mercy of your will;
Tempt not your sworn comrade, – only
As I am can I love you as you are –
or my company be lonely
For my health be ill:
I will sing if you will cry
…I

Never hope to say farewell,
For our lethargy is such
Heaven’s kindness cannot touch
Nor earth’s frankly brutal drum;
This was long ago decided,
Both of us know why,
Can, alas, foretell,
When our falsehoods are divided,
What we shall become,
One evaporating sigh
…I

 

giulio_aristide_sartorio_-_la_sirena_1893

Giulio Aristide Sartorio’s “The Siren,” 1893

“Ironic points of light/ Flash out wherever the Just/ Exchange their messages.”

There is no such thing as the State
And no one exists alone;
Hunger allows no choice
To the citizen or the police;
We must love one another or die.

Defenceless under the night
Our world in stupor lies;
Yet, dotted everywhere,
Ironic points of light
Flash out wherever the Just
Exchange their messages:
May I, composed like them
Of Eros and of dust,
Beleaguered by the same
Negation and despair,
Show an affirming flame.

— excerpt from W.H. Auden’s “September 1, 1939”

 

 

 

“These are a few of my favorite things.”

I am now the proud owner of … a goodly portion of all the “Grendel” comics Matt Wagner ever wrote.  What you see in the top row are “Grendel Omnibus” Volumes 1, 2 and 3.  (I believe I actually shared my review of Volume 1 on this site a while ago.)  These would comprise a nearly inclusive history of Hunter Rose, Christine Spar, Brian Li Sung, Orion Assante and Eppy Thatcher.  All that remains for me to collect is the fourth Omnibus trade-paperback, chronicling the possibly immortal Grendel Prime and his imperiled charge, Jupiter Assante.

The Omnibus editions do not include crossovers with heroes such as Batman and The Shadow, as those characters are obviously owned by other companies.  Nor do they include the diverse dystopian future tales depicted by various artists in the 1990’s “Grendel Tales.”  But I am in heaven with what you see below — or maybe hell, considering these books’ central motif.

To top it all off, that hefty tome beneath the comics is W. H. Auden’s “Collected Poems,” edited by Edward Mendelson, with the poet’s work between 1927 and his death in 1973.  It’s 927 pages.  It weighs 30 pounds, probably.  And it is indexed by both the poem’s titles and their first lines.  That is what you call a lifetime investment.

The comics will be excellent summer reading; as will Auden.  But I’ll focus more on the Briton when fall arrives.  Like his countryman, Doyle, he might be best enjoyed outdoors on a gray and increasingly brisk Autumn day.

I need to buy books more often.

 

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Check out “Ode to Sabrina” and “Redsands,” by Philippe Atherton-Blenkiron

Dead Snakes featured two outstanding poems on Monday by my friend and colleague, Philippe Atherton-Blenkiron.  Readers of this blog know that I’m a big fan of his first collection of poetry, “The Pustoy.”

The poems titles are “Ode to Sabrina” and “Redsands.”  The latter is titled after a real, abandoned, youth residential care facility in the author’s native Britain, and it’s accompanied by a set of moody black-and-white photos that he took there himself.

I love “Redsands.”  Its final stanza and closing lines remind me of the ending of lines near the end of one of my own favorite poems, “The Shield of Achilles,” written by W.H. Auden and published in 1952:

A ragged urchin, aimless and alone,
Loitered about that vacancy; a bird
Flew up to safety from his well-aimed stone:
That girls are raped, that two boys knife a third,
Were axioms to him, who’d never heard
Of any world where promises were kept,
Or one could weep because another wept.

Read both of Phil’s poems at the link below.  You won’t be disappointed.

http://deadsnakes.blogspot.co.uk/2016/05/philippe-atherton-blenkiron-two-poems.html?m=1

John Hanna reads W.H. Auden’s “Funeral Blues”

Actor John Hanna, in his role as Matthew in 1994’s “Four Weddings and a Funeral,” reads W.H. Auden’s “Funeral Blues.”

 

It is W. H. Auden’s birthday today.

He was born 107 years ago, to be exact.

“He was my noon, my midnight, my talk, my song.  I thought that love would last forever.  I was wrong.”