W. H. Auden: “Funeral Blues”. Cease all of the clocks, reduce off the… | by Tania Sheko | Poem of the day

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Tania Sheko
Abbas Kiarostami, Roads, Rain and Glass,

Cease all of the clocks, reduce off the phone,
Stop the canine from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Deliver out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message ‘He’s Useless’.
Put crepe bows around the white necks of the general public doves,
Let the visitors policemen put on black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday relaxation,
My midday, my midnight, my speak, my tune;
I assumed that love would final eternally: I used to be mistaken.

The celebrities usually are not needed now; put out each one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the solar,
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wooden;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

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