Stop All The Clocks, Cut Off The Telephone Poem by Wystan Hugh Auden

Stop All The Clocks, Cut Off The Telephone

Rating: 5.0


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 for ever: 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.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Valentin Savin 08 December 2015

???????? ????? (??? ????????) ?????? ??? ???? ???????? ???? ???????? ????, ????? ???????, ???? ??? ??????, ????? ?? ???? ??. ?????? ?????, ??? ?????????? ??? ????? ?????? ????, ????????? ????? ??????. ????????? ? ???? ?????? ???? ? ????? ? ???????: «??????, ??? ????»! ?? ??? ??????? ???? ?????????. ???????? ????? ?????? ????????. ?? ??? ??? ?????, ??, ?????? ? ?????, ?????? ?? ???? ?? ????????? ??????. ??? ???? ? ????, ??? ???? ? ????? ???. ?????? ?????? ? ??? ?? ??? ?? ????. ?? ????? ?????? ???, ??????? ??. ?? ???? ??? ????, ?????? ??????. ?????? ?????, ???????? ???. ??? ?????????, ??? ????? ?????.

3 1 Reply
Robert Merrett 12 February 2017

Quite simply a brilliant poem

3 0 Reply
Jeffery biscuits 08 March 2021

Wow impeccable, really got me in my feels. Just can't believe this.

1 0 Reply
Shaun Cronick 21 June 2020

It is a shame that only two of W H Auden's many poems are accessible here on PoemHunter. This is one the other being Grub First, Then Ethics.

0 0 Reply
Keith Brown 28 April 2020

Awesome then some, love hearts when it lives, hurts when it dies, does it die?

1 0 Reply
Ray A Burleigh 01 April 2020

Auden searching through horror to explain his pain achieved something great. Read it again. And praise him.

1 0 Reply
Xeyrulla Xayal 25 April 2017

MAT?M BLYUZU Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone... Saxlayin saatlari, telefonlari k?sin, Sir?li sümük atin itl?r? ki, hürm?sin. Sussun pianinolar, asta t?bil s?siyl? Çixarin c?naz?ni, yigilsin yasa g?l?n. Haray salsin uçarlar göyd? dövr? vuraraq, Bu ölüm x?b?rini yazsin ag buludlara. Taxsin ag göy?rçinl?r boynuna qara ip?k, Polisl?r yola çixsin qara ?lc?k gey?r?k. S?rqimdi, Q?rbimdi o, C?nubum, Simalimdi, Z?hm?t dolu günl?rim, istirah?t animdi. O m?n? söz, n?gm?di, o, gündüzdü, o, axsam, M?n ?b?di bilirdim sevgini. Yanilmisam. Ulduzlar göz oxsamir, ulduzlari söndürün, Açib-atin gün?si, ayi büküb endirin. Qirin-tökün mes?ni, qurudun okeani, Yaxsi n? var qabaqda? Daha ölüb inamim… Ingilisc?d?n t?rcüm?: Xeyrulla X?yal Sent.2012, Samara

2 0 Reply
Close
Error Success