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Letter to a Wound
Once I carved on
a seat in the park
We have sat here.
Youd better not.
W.H. Auden,
Letter to a Wound
In Memory of W.
B. Yeats
by W. H. Auden
Hedisappearedinthedeadofwinter:
Thebrookswerefrozen,theairportsalmostdeserted,
Andsnowdisfiguredthepublicstatues;
Themercurysankinthemouthofthedyingday.
Whatinstrumentswehaveagree
Thedayofhisdeathwasadarkcoldday.
Farfromhisillness
Thewolvesranonthroughtheevergreenforests,
Thepeasantriverwasuntemptedbythefashionablequays;
Bymourningtongues
Thedeathofthepoetwaskeptfromhispoems.
Butforhimitwashislastafternoonashimself,
Anafternoonofnursesandrumours;
Theprovincesofhisbodyrevolted,
Thesquaresofhismindwereempty,
Silenceinvadedthesuburbs,
Thecurrentofhisfeelingfailed;hebecamehisadmirers.
Nowheisscatteredamongahundredcities
Andwhollygivenovertounfamiliaraffections,
Tofindhishappinessinanotherkindofwood
Andbepunishedunderaforeigncodeofconscience.
Thewordsofadeadman
Aremodifiedinthegutsoftheliving.
Butintheimportanceandnoiseoftomorrow
WhenthebrokersareroaringlikebeastsontheflooroftheBourse,
Andthepoorhavethesufferingstowhichtheyarefairlyaccustomed,
Andeachinthecellofhimselfisalmostconvincedofhisfreedom,
Afewthousandwillthinkofthisday
Asonethinksofadaywhenonedidsomethingslightlyunusual.
Whatinstrumentswehaveagree
Thedayofhisdeathwasadarkcoldday.
II
Youweresillylikeus;yourgiftsurviveditall:
Theparishofrichwomen,physicaldecay,
Yourself.MadIrelandhurtyouintopoetry.
NowIrelandhashermadnessandherweatherstill,
Forpoetrymakesnothinghappen:itsurvives
Inthevalleyofitsmakingwhereexecutives
Wouldneverwanttotamper,flowsonsouth
Fromranchesofisolationandthebusygriefs,
Rawtownsthatwebelieveanddiein;itsurvives,
Awayofhappening,amouth.
III
Earth,receiveanhonouredguest:
WilliamYeatsislaidtorest.
LettheIrishvessellie
Emptiedofitspoetry.
Inthenightmareofthedark
AllthedogsofEuropebark,
Andthelivingnationswait,
Eachsequesteredinitshate;
Intellectualdisgrace
Staresfromeveryhumanface,
Andtheseasofpitylie
Lockedandfrozenineacheye.
Follow,poet,followright
Tothebottomofthenight,
Withyourunconstrainingvoice
Stillpersuadeustorejoice;
Withthefarmingofaverse
Makeavineyardofthecurse,
Singofhumanunsuccess
Inaraptureofdistress;
Inthedesertsoftheheart
Letthehealingfountainstart,
Intheprisonofhisdays
Teachthefreemanhowtopraise.
In Memory of
Sigmund Freud
by W. H. Auden
Whentherearesomanyweshallhavetomourn,
whengriefhasbeenmadesopublic,andexposed
tothecritiqueofawholeepoch
thefrailtyofourconscienceandanguish,
ofwhomshallwespeak?Foreverydaytheydie
amongus,thosewhoweredoingussomegood,
whoknewitwasneverenoughbut
hopedtoimprovealittlebyliving.
Suchwasthisdoctor:stillateightyhewished
tothinkofourlifefromwhoseunruliness
somanyplausibleyoungfutures
withthreatsorflatteryaskobedience,
buthiswishwasdeniedhim:heclosedhiseyes
uponthatlastpicture,commontousall,
ofproblemslikerelativesgathered
puzzledandjealousaboutourdying.
Forabouthimtilltheveryendwerestill
thosehehadstudied,thefaunaofthenight,
andshadesthatstillwaitedtoenter
thebrightcircleofhisrecognition
turnedelsewherewiththeirdisappointmentashe
wastakenawayfromhislifeinterest
togobacktotheearthinLondon,
animportantJewwhodiedinexile.
OnlyHatewashappy,hopingtoaugment
hispracticenow,andhisdingyclientele
whothinktheycanbecuredbykilling
andcoveringthegardenwithashes.
Theyarestillalive,butinaworldhechanged
simplybylookingbackwithnofalseregrets;
allhedidwastoremember
liketheoldandbehonestlikechildren.
Hewasn'tcleveratall:hemerelytold
theunhappyPresenttorecitethePast
likeapoetrylessontillsooner
orlateritfalteredatthelinewhere
longagotheaccusationshadbegun,
andsuddenlyknewbywhomithadbeenjudged,
howrichlifehadbeenandhowsilly,
andwaslifeforgivenandmorehumble,
abletoapproachtheFutureasafriend
withoutawardrobeofexcuses,without
asetmaskofrectitudeoran
embarrassingoverfamiliargesture.
Nowondertheancientculturesofconceit
inhistechniqueofunsettlementforesaw
thefallofprinces,thecollapseof
theirlucrativepatternsoffrustration:
ifhesucceeded,why,theGeneralisedLife
wouldbecomeimpossible,themonolith
ofStatebebrokenandprevented
thecooperationofavengers.
OfcoursetheycalledonGod,buthewenthisway
downamongthelostpeoplelikeDante,down
tothestinkingfossewheretheinjured
leadtheuglylifeoftherejected,
andshoweduswhatevilis,not,aswethought,
deedsthatmustbepunished,butourlackoffaith,
ourdishonestmoodofdenial,
theconcupiscenceoftheoppressor.
Ifsometracesoftheautocraticpose,
thepaternalstrictnesshedistrusted,still
clungtohisutteranceandfeatures,
itwasaprotectivecoloration
foronewho'dlivedamongenemiessolong:
ifoftenhewaswrongand,attimes,absurd,
tousheisnomoreaperson
nowbutawholeclimateofopinion
underwhomweconductourdifferentlives:
Likeweatherhecanonlyhinderorhelp,
theproudcanstillbeproudbutfindit
alittleharder,thetyranttriesto
makedowithhimbutdoesn'tcareforhimmuch:
hequietlysurroundsallourhabitsofgrowth
andextends,tillthetiredineven
theremotestmiserableduchy
havefeltthechangeintheirbonesandarecheered
tillthechild,unluckyinhislittleState,
somehearthwherefreedomisexcluded,
ahivewhosehoneyisfearandworry,
feelscalmernowandsomehowassuredofescape,
while,astheylieinthegrassofourneglect,
somanylongforgottenobjects
revealedbyhisundiscouragedshining
arereturnedtousandmadepreciousagain;
gameswehadthoughtwemustdropaswegrewup,
littlenoiseswedarednotlaughat,
faceswemadewhennoonewaslooking.
Buthewishesusmorethanthis.Tobefree
isoftentobelonely.Hewouldunite
theunequalmoietiesfractured
byourownwellmeaningsenseofjustice,
wouldrestoretothelargerthewitandwill
thesmallerpossessesbutcanonlyuse
forariddisputes,wouldgivebackto
thesonthemother'srichnessoffeeling:
buthewouldhaveusremembermostofall
tobeenthusiasticoverthenight,
notonlyforthesenseofwonder
italonehastooffer,butalso
becauseitneedsourlove.Withlargesadeyes
itsdelectablecreatureslookupandbeg
usdumblytoaskthemtofollow:
theyareexileswholongforthefuture
thatlivesinourpower,theytoowouldrejoice
ifallowedtoserveenlightenmentlikehim,
eventobearourcryof'Judas',
ashedidandallmustbearwhoserveit.
Onerationalvoiceisdumb.Overhisgrave
thehouseholdofImpulsemournsonedearlyloved:
sadisEros,builderofcities,
andweepinganarchicAphrodite.
- W.H. Auden