Poetry- Physics Entropy | 22 Sep 2006
Stop all the clocks
W.H. Auden has been admired for his unsurpassed technical virtuosity and an ability to write poems in nearly every imaginable verse form; the incorporation in his work of popular culture, current events, and vernacular speech; and also for the vast range of his intellect, which drew easily from an extraordinary variety of literatures, art forms, social and political theories, and scientific and technical information.
I love his this Poem
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffle drum
Bring out the coffin,
let the mourners come,
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling in the sky He is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my Easy, My 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.
-W H Auden (1907 – 1973)