Etwas Poesie für zwischendurch #2



Funeral Blues

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 forever: 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 woods;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

W.H. Auden


Notiz am Rande: W.H.Auden schrieb seinen "Funeral Blues" entgegen der Annahme Vieler nicht in tiefer Trauer um den Tod eines Freundes, sondern als Satire über den Tod eines Politikers.
Seine letzten Lebensjahre verbrachte Auden in Österreich, 1973 wurde er in Kirchstetten/Niederösterreich beigesetzt.

Kulturwochen auf Heulnicht ;-)


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