Monday, February 1, 2016

The poem Funeral Blues, by WH Auden

A good friend sent me this poem recently because he had been watching the film Four Weddings and a Funeral, and this is the poem that is recited during the funeral service in that film. He also knows that I like Auden's poetry, as did my father. There have been so many artists and musicians who have died recently, but today is also the one-year anniversary of my brother's death. I know there are others reading this who will understand the feelings expressed in this poem. 



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 wood;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.


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