Every so often I stumble across or revisit some exceptional writing, verse and prose, that latches itself to heart and soul here and again, reminding me how perfectly life, time, and uncommon love can reassure. These two I share are favorites when heart is full, or heavy, or alone.
Isn’t it true
however far we’ve wandered
into our provinces of persecution,
where our regrets accuse,
we keep returning
back to the common faith
from which we’ve all dissented,
back to the hands, the feet, the faces?Children are always there
and take the hands,
even when they are most terrified.
Those in love
cannot make up their minds
to go or stay.
Artist and doctor return most often.
Only the mad will never, never come back.For doctors keep on worrying while away,
in case their skill is suffering or deserted.
Lovers have lived so long with giants and elves,
they want belief again in their own size.
And the artist prays ever so gently,
let me find pure all that can happen.Only uniqueness is success.
For instance let me perceive
the images of history.
All that I push away
with doubt and travel,
today’s and yesterdays alike, like bodies.
—- Letters from Iceland, W.H. Auden
Looking up at the stars, I know quite well
That, for all they care, I can go to hell,
But on earth indifference is the least
We have to dread from man or beast.How should we like it were stars to burn
With a passion for us we could not return?
If equal affection cannot be,
Let the more loving one be me.Admirer as I think I am
Of stars that do not give a damn,
I cannot, now I see them, say
I missed one terribly all day.Were all stars to disappear or die,
I should learn to look at an empty sky
And feel its total dark sublime,
Though this might take me a little time.
—- The More Loving One, W.H. Auden
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Do you have a favorite Auden piece? Share them below. It isn’t enough to just gaze. Let’s taste and savor up the emotions Auden stirs. Please.
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Live Well — Love Much — Laugh Often — Learn Always
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‘The More Loving One’ is already a favourite of mine, so I shall present another for you;
If I Could Tell You
I didn’t know you liked poetry Professor *smiles*.
(The colours in your header picture are beautiful by the way).
– esme upon the Cloud
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The Professor has many sides, a kaliedoscope if you will, from which to peer inside… or runaway… whichever you are so inclined. 😀 😈
And a most excellent choice Esme, If I Could Tell You. Mmm, yes. Thank you, thank you. (nods graciously with hungry smile)
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I don’t believe esme has run away from anyone since she was a very tiny dot, avoiding atoms. You don’t seem frightening Professor. *laughs*. I’m a tough old thing. *nods*.
I’m glad you approve of my choice, I read quite a lot of his writing many moons ago, but can’t remember much of it, or much of anything really *laughs some more*.
– esme upon the Cloud
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Then if you don’t “runaway“… do you skip quickly? 😀
And… if your memory escapes you much MORE now…then I’m quite sure I’m able to manage that in most all circumstances we might find ourselves. 😀
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Skipping is the fastest way to travel across land if you are not an athlete. If attacked, skip to my Lou say I –
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Skip_to_My_Lou
But I’ve no need to skip at present. *smiles with all her pointy teeth*
– esme upon the Cloud
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Oh my! Esme you know a bit about 19th century American dance do ya? I’m pleasantly surprised seeing that I come from a huge dancing-family and history! Although, when we’d dance the LAST thing we concerned ourselves with was de Debul (slang) and a LOT more of the celebration of life, our natural bodies, and coordinated motion. 😀
Pointed teeth? Mmm, I may not swap you then with another partner! 😈
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Round these parts *gestures across the Cloud*, we sing ‘skip to the loo my darling’ instead, if curry has recently been consumed.
A bit of ‘yee-ha’ style dancing is a fine way to spend a evening I’d say, be the de-bul there or not *nods playing the washboard*.
– Esme upon the Cloud
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LOL! (does a jig to Lady’s washboarding!) 😉
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I like that Esme 🙂
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I’m pleased. *looks just that*.
– esme upon the Cloud
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I seem to remember studying Auden. Don’t like the first one. The second one is ok though.
I’m more a Keats/Owen woman though.
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Care to share one? Your favorite? 🙂
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Thought this was an Auden post.
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It is… but aren’t both of us usually uncomfortable or awkward-about in rules, constrictions, and restraints? 😀
I was allowing you to share if you chose to. I KNOW you could…with something exceptional on the subject of time, life, and love.
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There you go.
Owen mostly, and Larkin.
https://roughseasinthemed.wordpress.com/2007/11/14/armistice-day/
https://roughseasinthemed.wordpress.com/2011/11/11/strange-meeting/
https://roughseasinthemed.wordpress.com/dross-1-arty-dross/poetry/war-poetry/
And
https://roughseasinthemed.wordpress.com/2012/11/11/11-november-2012-gibraltar/
https://roughseasinthemed.wordpress.com/dross-1-arty-dross/poetry/british-twentieth-century/
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See lines. Larkin is a fave. So accurate.
But Owen, hard to choose one. Although the last lones of Dulce et decorum est are classic. Superb poet. I really must bring my war poetry book back to share some amazing works. Sheer brilliance.
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Yes. As I’m a military-history fan for as long as I can remember. Expected I’m sure in a military family and extended family going back centuries.
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My liking for Owen wasn’t the military aspect. His use of words and imagery was just superb.
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…and yes, very much this one…
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This one I find to be quite thought provoking:
As I Walked Out One Evening
W. H. Auden, 1907 – 1973
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.
– As I Walked Out One Evening….W.H. Auden
Of the ones you shared “The More Loving One” is my favorite. As usual, Professor, you’ve opened new doors for me. 😉 I’d not heard of Auden prior to your blog.
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I did like your selection Lonestar. Thank you. I’ve rediscovered anew why I have always enjoyed Auden. His words, rhythm, and imagery move me in many ways. I might have a man-crush on him! 😛 LOL
So glad you got to enjoy a little peek through Professor’s (Trap?) doors. 😈
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Sorry have not read whole post, but I saved this picture 2 weeks ago from google. So as I was scrolling through your posts, this stopped me in my tracks. Hmmmm
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