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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 woods;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
Wystan Hugh Auden
Read poems about / on: dog, ocean, silence, moon, song, funeral, sky, sun, work, star
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Click here to write your comments about this poem (Funeral Blues by Wystan Hugh Auden)
Angelo Brito (6/27/2006 4:27:00 PM)
I've first saw, or read, this poem in the movie 4 weddings and a funeral, and i've became completely devoted to him. I can't choose better words to explain such pain, such love like thoose wrtitten in this poem. In my humble opinion this is one of the best poems ever written. |
Noelle Alexander (5/12/2005 4:56:00 PM)
This poem is so powerful-it is simple and eloquent, and it expresses the depths of grief in a way anyone can understand and relate to. |
Read all 2 comments >>
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Wystan Hugh Auden
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