January 31, 2012
January 16, 2010
As I Walked Out One Evening by W. H. Auden
As I walked out one evening,
Walking down Bristol Street,
The crowds upon the pavement
Were fields of harvest wheat.
And down by the brimming river
I heard a lover sing
Under an arch of the railway:
'Love has no ending.
'I'll love you, dear, I'll love you
Till China and Africa meet,
And the river jumps over the mountain
And the salmon sing in the street,
'I'll love you till the ocean
Is folded and hung up to dry
And the seven stars go squawking
Like geese about the sky.
'The years shall run like rabbits,
For in my arms I hold
The Flower of the Ages,
And the first love of the world.'
But all the clocks in the city
Began to whirr and chime:
'O let not Time deceive you,
You cannot conquer Time.
'In the burrows of the Nightmare
Where Justice naked is,
Time watches from the shadow
And coughs when you would kiss.
'In headaches and in worry
Vaguely life leaks away,
And Time will have his fancy
To-morrow or to-day.
'Into many a green valley
Drifts the appalling snow;
Time breaks the threaded dances
And the diver's brilliant bow.
'O plunge your hands in water,
Plunge them in up to the wrist;
Stare, stare in the basin
And wonder what you've missed.
'The glacier knocks in the cupboard,
The desert sighs in the bed,
And the crack in the tea-cup opens
A lane to the land of the dead.
'Where the beggars raffle the banknotes
And the Giant is enchanting to Jack,
And the Lily-white Boy is a Roarer,
And Jill goes down on her back.
'O look, look in the mirror,
O look in your distress:
Life remains a blessing
Although you cannot bless.
'O stand, stand at the window
As the tears scald and start;
You shall love your crooked neighbour
With your crooked heart.'
It was late, late in the evening,
The lovers they were gone;
The clocks had ceased their chiming,
And the deep river ran on.
June 8, 2009
"There are, said my old philosophy professor, two kinds
Of people in the world: those who divide everything in two
And those who don’t. At the dinner party, Janice was talking
About computers. IBMs are masculine, she said. Macintoshes
Are feminine. That’s exactly what some people say
About art and nature, said her husband, Ben. Do you really
Believe that, asked Mark. I mean, should hurricanes be named
After women, as in the old days, and is the construction of a city
The quintessential male act, Nature subdued by Apollo’s merry men?"
Of people in the world: those who divide everything in two
And those who don’t. At the dinner party, Janice was talking
About computers. IBMs are masculine, she said. Macintoshes
Are feminine. That’s exactly what some people say
About art and nature, said her husband, Ben. Do you really
Believe that, asked Mark. I mean, should hurricanes be named
After women, as in the old days, and is the construction of a city
The quintessential male act, Nature subdued by Apollo’s merry men?"
— David Lehman, On the Nature of Desire.
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