It was late, late in the evening,

The lovers they were gone;

The clocks had ceased their chiming

And the deep river ran on.

W.H. Auden

Villanelle

Time can say nothing but I told you so,

Time only knows the price we have to pay;

If I could tell you, I would let you know.

If we should weep when clowns put on their show,

If we should stumble when musicians play,

Time can say nothing but I told you so.

There are no fortunes to be told, although

Because I love you more than I can say,

If I could tell you, I would let you know.

The winds must come from somewhere when they blow,

There must be reasons why the leaves decay;

Time can say nothing but I told you so.

Perhaps the roses really want to grow,

The vision seriously intends to stay;

If I could tell you, I would let you know.

Suppose the lions all get up and go,

And all the brooks and soldiers run away?

Time can say nothing but I told you so.

If I could tell you, I would let you know.

W.H. Auden

At the Party

Unrhymed, unrythmical, the chatter goes:
Yet no one hears his own remarks as prose.

Beneath each topic tunelessly discussed
The ground-bass is reciprocal mistrust.

The names in fashion shuttling to and fro
Yield, when deciphered, messages of woe.

You cannot read me like an open book.
I'm more myself than you will ever look.

Will no one listen to my little song?  

Perhaps I shan't be with you very long.

A howl for recognition, shrill with fear,
Shakes the jam-packed apartment, but each ear
Is listening to its hearing, so none hear.


W.H. Auden

Epitaph on a Tyrant

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.

W.H. Auden