Ohhh, classy!
Perfection, of a kind, was what he was after,
And the poetry he invented was easy to understand;
He knew human folly like the back of his hand,
And was greatly interested in armies and fleets;
When he laughed, respectable senators burst with laughter,
And when he cried the little children died in the streets.
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9 comments:
perfect choice, Ramon
Thanks Squib.
I do agonise over these things, you know.
I'm digging the angelic background thing going on in the painting. And the horsey statue.
Oh, and the poem's good* too, of course. Who was it written about?
*No water works from me this week. Promise.
It's a poem by Auden called Epitaph on a Tyrant
Given he was looking back at the 1930s, it's pretty much a Melbourne Cup field of suspects, Alex.
It's a poem by Auden called Epitaph on a Tyrant
OK, who are you and what have you done to the real Ramon?
Come again, Squibaline?
you always make us google it
I've taken pity on you, my children.
I already googled it. It made me regret my attack on Nick Cave (he is a big Auden fan).
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