The Ogre does what ogres can,
Deeds quite impossible for Man,
But one prize is beyond his reach:
The Ogre cannot master speech.
About a subjugated plain,
Among its desperate and slain,
The Ogre stalks with hands on hips,
While drivel gushes from his lips.
-- W. H. Auden, "August, 1968" City Without Walls
Yes indeed.
ReplyDeleteand I heard the Poet His Own Self read that one, out loud *applause*
ReplyDeleteOoh, very prescient.
ReplyDeleteWho was he writing it about?
writing aboout the crushing of the '68 "Velvet Revolution" in Czechoslovakia...
ReplyDeleteAmen!
ReplyDeleteOne of my favourite bits from one of my favourite poets.
ReplyDeleteBrilliant!
ReplyDeleteFabulous to hear a poem from the poets lips...and then, uhm, sigh...apply it to life.
ReplyDelete