As the poets have mournfully sung -- W H Auden

Guest poem submitted by Anustup Datta:

(Poem #1403) As the poets have mournfully sung As the poets have mournfully sung, Death takes the innocent young, The rolling-in-money, The screamingly-funny, And those who are very well hung. -- W H Auden

Haven't contributed something for ages, so thought I would. Came across
this oft-quoted gem while re-reading Auden, and it seemed to resonate
with my current cheerful frame of mind, so here it is. Don't think we
have run it on the group before.

As Thomas has pointed out before, Auden has a curious knack of being
just right at times - of finding just the right word or phrase that
illuminates the idea blindingly. Sometimes, this gives his work a rather
trite feel, like someone who uses his power with the language to play
around with superficial concepts. More often, though, one is simply awed
by the craftsmanship of a truly instinctive poet. Here, for instance, he
uses the somewhat farcical tone of a limerick to explore the human
condition and the death penalty that we are born with. The 'mournful'
poets mentioned in the first line number many - but the lines it reminds
me most of belong to the Rubaiyat -

  The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,
  Moves on; nor all your Piety nor Wit
  Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,
  Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it.

        -- Omar Khayyam
        tr. Edward FitzGerald
        Minstrels Poem #545

The same essential idea, differently and delightfully expressed.

Anustup.

[Minstrels Links]

W. H. Auden:
Poem #50, In Memory of W. B. Yeats
Poem #68, Musee des Beaux Arts
Poem #256, Funeral Blues
Poem #307, Lay your sleeping head, my love
Poem #371, O What Is That Sound
Poem #386, The Unknown Citizen
Poem #427, The Two
Poem #491, Roman Wall Blues
Poem #494, The Fall of Rome
Poem #618, The More Loving One
Poem #677, Villanelle
Poem #708, Five Songs - II
Poem #728, from The Dog Beneath the Skin
Poem #762, Miranda
Poem #868, Partition
Poem #889,  September 1, 1939
Poem #895,  August 1968
Poem #913, In Time of War, XII
Poem #1038, Epitaph on a Tyrant
Poem #1082, Under Which Lyre
Poem #1281, Night Mail
Poem #1298, Miss Gee

There is a detailed biography of Auden attached to Poem #50 above.

Omar Khayyam:
Poem #162, Awake! for Morning in the Bowl of Night
Poem #342, Oh, come with old Khayyam, and leave the Wise
Poem #545, The Moving Finger Writes; and, Having Writ
Poem #654, Think, in this Batter'd Caravanserai
Poem #750, Here with a Loaf of Bread beneath the Bough
Poem #1354, Ah, Love!, Could Thou and I with Fate Conspire

And finally:
Poem #587, Strugnell's Rubaiyat -- Wendy Cope