[256] Funeral Blues
Strange, when you consider the width of his poetic range, that my two favourite
Auden poems are both elegies...
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.
-- W.H. Auden
|
First published as "Song IX" from 'Twelve Songs' (1936); reprinted under the
present title in 'Tell me the Truth about Love' (1976). Most famous appearance?
In the movie 'Four Weddings and a Funeral' (which fact does not, surprisingly
enough, detract from the quality of the poem one bit).
thomas.
[Minstrels Links]
We've run two Auden poems before (Only two? Yup, difficult as it may be to
believe... the fact is, most of Auden's work leaves me a bit cold -- feel
welcome to rectify the situation by means of guest submissions).
First, that beautiful elegy in praise of one of my favourite poets - In Memory
of W. B. Yeats, at poem #50
And second, the almost equally good Musee des Beaux Arts, at poem #68
Both sites contain a fair bit of critical analysis, biographical info and the
like.
From: rock gagnon <rockgagnon@>
Hi my name is Diane and I have a work to do on the poem: Stop All the
Clocks written by W.H. Auden. I have looked on the internet to find
information about the poem and I haven't foud what I want. Could you
explain what the poem is about ( meaning of the poem)
Thanks
Diane
From: Daniel Marsh <danm@>
I don't know how long ago that comment was posted (I've just started
looking about the archive in detail myself) but the meaning of the poem is
clearly expressed by the poet, and as such it is one of the most
heart-wrenching songs of grief I have ever heard. I don't really know the
circumstances behind his writing the poem (whether it was inspired by the
death of a loved one-- I have heard once that Auden was homosexual so its
fairly likely that it was,) but he really makes you feel his grief and
abandon with every verse. The final line is a summing line, wrapping up
the poem neatly and giving the final beat to the funeral drum: for nothing
now can ever come to any good. Grief distilled to its barest essence.
I agree with the fact that its use in a movie doesn't diminish the quality
of the poem. In fact, I have a hard time hearing it in any voice save one
with a Scottish accent. But, frankly, as I've stated on another poem on
this list (the first, in fact) that Poetry is a audial art, as well as a
written one. Poems are meant to be read aloud, either in your own head, or
to others in whatever medium you choose.
From: Alice Bain <alba@>
I am delighted with this archive--and motivated to add my two cents
worth of Auden poems...I tried to choose only one to send you, but my
little Everyman edition falls open in two places. Strange, now I think
about it, that my two favorite Auden poems are about sleep. Alley
oop...
Alice Bain
Prime
Simultaneously, as soundlessly,
Spontaneously, suddenly
As, at the vaunt of the dawn, the kind
Gates of the body fly open
To its world beyond, the gates of the mind,
The horn gate and the ivory gate
Swing to, swing shut, instantaneously
Quell the nocturnal rummage
Of its rebellious fronde, ill-favoured,
Ill-natured and second-rate,
Disenfranchised, widowed and orphaned
By an historical mistake:
Recalled from the shades to be a seeing being,
From absence to be on display,
Without a name or history I wake
Between my body and the day.
Holy this moment, wholly in the right,
As, in complete obedience
To the light's laconic outcry, next
As a sheet, near as a wall,
Out there as a mountain's poise of stone,
The world is present, about,
And I know that I am, here, not alone
But with a world, and rejoice
Unvexed, for the will has still to claim
This adjacent arm as my own,
The memory to name me, resume
Its routine of praise and blame,
And smiling to me is this instant while
Still the day is intact, and I
The Adam sinless in our beginning,
Adam still previous to any act.
I draw breath; that is of course to wish,
No matter what, to be wise.
To be different, to die and the cost,
No matter how, is Paradise
Lost of course and myself owing a death:
The eager ridge, the steady sea,
The flat roofs of the fishing village
Still asleep in its bunny,
Though as fresh and sunny still, are not friends
But things to hand, this ready flesh
No honest equal, but my accomplice now,
My assassin to be, and my name
Stands for my historical share of care
For a lying self-made city,
Afraid of our living task, they dying
Which the coming day will ask.
(and also)
The Dream
Dear, though the night is gone,
Its dream still haunts to-day,
That brought us to a room
Cavernous, lofty as
A railway terminus,
And crowded in that gloom
Were beds, and we in one
In a far corner lay.
Our whisper woke no clocks,
We kissed and I was glad
At everything you did,
Indifferent to those
Who sat with hostile eyes
In pairs on every bed,
Arms round each other's necks,
Inert and vaguely sad.
What hidden worm of guilt
Or what malignant doubt
Am I the victim of,
That you, then, unabashed,
Did what I never wished,
Confessed another love;
And I, submissive, felt
Unwanted and went out.
From: "Bob Morrow" <bob@>
Hi
How can the appearance of any poem anywhere ever detract from it ? - (if
it is not changed) - the point of writing it was that it would be read -
or even better spoken - do you want poems forever consigned to dusty
unopened volumes ?
I think not - because of this excellent internet resource - I have met
"poets" who are very wary of the net - hmmmmmm - do they just want to
sell books ? or do they want their poems to be seen and read ?
The more exposure any poetry gets - the better - the cream will rise to
the top - with or without the opinion of "experts" and "critics".
That's why I like your resource so much - thanks a lot - keep up the
good work.
bob morrow
From: Abraham Thomas <Thomas@>
Hi Bob,
Interesting comment, and one with which (needless to say) I agree
completely. I was merely making a snide comment about how the entertainment
industry often manages to corrupt everything it touches, transforming
heartfelt emotion into tawdry sentimentality; it's a tribute to Auden's
genius that his poem transcends this would-be corruption and remains as
poignant and as moving on screen as it does in print (or in any other
medium).
cheers,
thomas.
From: "Nick Robinson" <nick@>
I agree that the appearance of the poem in "Four weddings........" did
not detract from it at all. Th e context within which it was used was,
in my opinion, apposite and John Hannahs delivery sublime.
Nick Robinson.
From: "RAMSEN" <ramsen@>
Le commentaire de ce poème svp. Merci d'avance. Je peux également
fournir des dossiers ou informations.
From: "Sarah Grace" <Gracie.Com@>
i think this is one of the saddest, yet best poems i have heard, i just
heard it read on Four Weddings And A Funeral and it had me in tears!
- Gracie
From: "Henry" <hpierluissi@>
Hi,
[Note: I'm using an Emailer I never use, to respond, try
henry@]
I saw the poem after a keyword search, after re-seeing the movie.W.H.
Auden brings even a "tough-guy" triathlete to his knees.
All the best,
-Henry
From: "Louise Penn" <pennfamily@>
Random entry - comment made that this poem was written as response to
Mussolini's death. First two verses seem ok but last too and poets
history not - any answers?
From: "Louise Penn" <pennfamily@>
Sorry - Mussolini died before poem was written. But who was the
inspiration, not many of us have aeroplanes writing in the sky .....
From: Waylandslayer@
I think its absolutely beautiful. Speaks more about the way I feel about
death than any other poem I've read. He leaves out all of the flowery words
usually accompanied in an elegy and gets right down to the bare bones of it, that
when you've lost someone you've loved, your heart is emptied, and nothing can
fill it up again, not even the stars or the ocean.
Greg Homsany.
From: <pertstuevner@>
Hi,
I must say that I had never heard of W. H. Auden until I had seen Four Weddings and a Funeral. I love poetry, but am not well versed with the names of writers, I just appreciate words and the way talented people put them together. This poem touched me deeply. My favorite verse....
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.
When I hear these words I can only pray that I too will feel this type of sorrow one day, for that will mean I loved.
Pert, in CA
From: "Greg Stapp" <gstapp@>
Hello,
I just came across your excellent website celebrating one of my favorite poems "Stop All the Clocks." I'm not one to go around correcting people all of the time, but I feel it's important in this case: the line goes "Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood" (not woods) which makes for a better rhyme with "good" at the end.
Thanks for your website!
--
Gregory Stapp
Noble Public Library
"always a beautiful answer who asks a more beautiful question" - e.e. cummings
--
From: "Cornelius Marx" <cmarx@>
Can you tell me who Funeral Blues was written about? Is it really
Mussolini?
Cornelius
This message, and any attachment, is intended for the addressee
only. If you are not the addressee, note that any dissemination,
distribution or copying of this communication is strictly prohibited,
and may be unlawful. If you received this communication by error,
please notify the sender by return e-mail and delete the original
communication.
From: "David Grandidge" <dg@>
im transforming this poem as part of my coursework i did some research
and i can tell you that auden was homosexual and suffered the loss of
his partner (no one famous) and wrote this poem to express his rief in
the most subtle way because his sexuality was frowned upon
From: "Christine Mills" <cmills@>
Good afternoon. I heard this poem last night while surfing channels and
stopped to hear it in its entirety. I had seen the move "Four Weddings .
. ." years before but perhaps wasn't as touched by the words. I'm so
touched by the words now that I was inspired today to look up the poems
of W. H. Auden, and his biography, on the Web. I've heard it said that
when the student is ready, the teacher appears, whether the teacher is a
Hollywood movie or a college classroom. I guess this student was ready
and I'm very grateful I heard the words of this beautiful poem spoken
exactly at the appropriate time - at a funeral!
Christine Mills
From: =?iso-8859-1?Q?de_familie_Berré?= <sb333325@>
Hi, I'm from Belgium and very fond of English literature and poetry. I
love the Auden's poetry for it is very pure and simple. As a reader you
have the feeling that he's able to formulate real human feelings. In my
opinion he's a real magician with words. My favourite poem is 'If I
could tell you...'
Greetings, Katelijne Berré
From: "Glenn Harriman" <glenn@>
That email address is not my own; I'm sure no one will have any reason
to want to get in touch with me but just in case, the correct email is
avery8@
The poem is not about Mussolini, nor his most well-known lover, Chester
Kallman. With a small amount of research you can see that the poem was
first published (but he could have written it in any of the years
between 1922, when he first began writing poetry, and the year of its
publication) in 1936. Auden meant Kallman sometime after he moved to the
United States in 1939; and though that is blatant proof that "Funeral
Blues" could not possibly be about Kallman, it is further proved by the
fact that Auden died 2 years before Kallman. However, Auden did have a
number of infatuations throughout his lifetime, like most of us, so it
could have been written about another lover. The thought crossed my mind
that the poem could be about his father, but he and his father were not
close; at least not close enough for Auden to refer to him as is North,
his South, his East and West. That's all!
From: Andrew Lowenthal <Andrew.Lowenthal@>
I am not sure if my email is the right one as I'm using a different computer
than I usually use but it's Celine here. I have read many of Auden's poems
and some of his plays and this one has always been my favourite. It is the
most beautiful, meaningful, truthful, poem about death to me. I am not one
usually to cry, I don't generally get moved by poems but this one made me
cry. I read it years ago before I knew about W.H. Auden and it was the poem
which got me interested in him. For some reason I think the name 'Funeral
Blues' as a title does not fulfil the needs of this poem as a title. When
someone dies you are not 'blue'. When I read it the first time it was called
song. If anyone has any suggestions as a title which they think fits it
please put in a comment or let me know. I am not sure if the e-mail on this
is right. my real email is:
celineandcats@
Oh, and to whoever it was who said poems cannot be ruined by being read out
somewhere else. They can, if someone reads them out in scorn or something
similar, surely it detracts majorly from the poem?
Bye ducks
Celine
*********************************************************************************************************************************
CONFIDENTIALITY: This email and attachments are intended for the above name only and are confidential.
If you are not the intended addressee, or the person responsible for delivering it to the intended addressee,
you may neither copy nor deliver it to anyone else or use it in any unauthorized manner. To do so is prohibited
and may be unlawful. If you receive this email by mistake, please advise the sender immediately by using
the reply facility in your email software and notify the systems manager: [Postmaster@]
PRIVACY: Unless instructed by you, we will retain your personal details in our international database for
future business-related purposes.
For further expertise on leadership, visit our knowledge base at www.egonzehnder.com .
If you are experiencing difficulty in opening an attachment to this mail, please check you have Adobe Acrobat reader installed. A free copy can be downloaded from http://www.adobe.com/products/acrobat/readstep2.html .
This message has been swept by Mailsweeper for the presence of computer viruses.
*********************************************************************************************************************************
From: M Blades & G Opie <mlbgmo@>
Hi,
According to Joseph Warren Beach, and a number of other sources I have
consulted, the first two stanzas of this poem appeared as a funeral song
in Auden's play The Ascent of F6, the three stanzas that originally
followed in that form were replaced by the two you have here when Auden
worked the piece up into a cabaret song for Hedli Anderson. In the play
the funeral song was about a politician, in the song it is simply about
the death of a fictitious woman's lover.
In the play, the mood was a mix of allegory and burlesque, quite comic
apparently. Monroe Spears describes the cabaret song as a parody...
'[that] exaggerates the customary blues sentiment in lamenting a dead
lover.'
I am writing a paper on the poem at the moment and had chosen it because
I thought it was a sincere lament. I think there is a sense of
disillusion inherent in the poem, but I now believe that it is chiefly
satirical. It would seem that we often fail to consider that not
everything poets have written is entirely serious. We dismiss the odd
language of the opening stanzas of 'Funeral Blues' as the rantings of a
distraught lover, but it would appear the author intended them to poke
fun at the fuss of a public funeral for someone not much liked!
Hope this doesn't spoil it too much for its fans - it wasn't hard to
find any of this out by the way, just head to your local university
library - the books all tend to agree about it.
Greg Opie.
From: Anjana <anjana_m_01@>
---------------------------------
Do you Yahoo!?
Vote for the stars of Yahoo!'s next ad campaign!
From: Ken Woody <kxw150@>
used in movie "Love Actually"
From: Ken Woody <kxw150@>
used in movie "Love Actually"
nope "Four Weddings and a Funeral" should have read notes first I
remembered incorrectly
From: "Jee Peng" <jpgoh@>
dsfff
From: MOWIGmbH@
For all German readers.
I tried to translate the poem into German.
Trauerblues
Lasst die Uhren nicht mehr schlagen, stoppt der Telefone Klang
Und dann rei=DFt den fetten Knochen aus des bellend Hundes Fang.
Lasst verklingen die Pianos, auch die Trommeln schlaget leis'
Und die Trauernden soll'n klagen auf des Sarges letzter Reis'
Lasst die Flugzeuge sanft kreisen, grämend durch das Abendrot
Und dann an den Himmel schreiben, vernehmt die Worte: Er ist tot.
Schmückt die Tauben auf den Plätzen, fein mit krepppapiernen Kragen
Lasst den Schutzmann in den Stra=DFen, schwarze Baumwollhandschuh tragen.
Er war mir Norden, Süden, Osten und auch Westen immerzu
War der Woche harte Arbeit und des Sonntags stille Ruh.
Er war mein Reden und mein Singen, war mein Tag und auch die Nacht
Dachte Liebe währet ewig, aber das war falsch gedacht.
Sternenschein kann nicht mehr trösten, löscht sie aus, hier an dem Grab
Verpackt den Mond am Firmament, auch die Sonne decket ab
Zerstört die Meere bis zum Grund und den Wald mit Feuerglut.
Denn seit heute nun wirt nimmer, nimmer wieder etwas gut.
W. H. Auden (by Klaus Agten) =A9 Klaus Agten, Münster 10.10.2004
From: "**Ruthie**" <ruth_sugden@>
Hiya
I love the poem funeral blues. I am still only in school but I watched
four weddings....... and i was deeply touched by the poem, i loved it so
much that I went on a website about the movie and I looked up the author
and the poem. I use it as my msn name and I love the bit :The stars are
not wanted now; put out every one, Pack up the moon and dismantle the
sun, AND :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. I love it. I just thought I'd
add that
Thankyou
Ruth
From: LINDA S ROACH <lindasr109@>
I am just learning french and i just wanted to say:
Tu est le mendre, and that : Tu est mes meillure amis, est pour l'anglais tu vous ce'st tres magnifique, just excuse me if i'm am saying something offensive or wrong because as i said i am just learning.Actually my french teacher is Mme Powers at South Jefferson central school and i am in french 2.
From: sameer_bora@ Thu Mar 24 00:24:12 2005
Also would be displayed in the memorial at Heysel, due to be unveiled in
Brussels.
Quite an apt time, considering the Liverpool - Juventus Champions League
match to be held soon (Apr 2005).
More on this link:
Monument to mark Heysel disaster
http://soccernet.espn.go.com/headlinenews?id"328522&cc"5739
borax
From: "Zenaida Vega" <momi2angelica-joey@>
I like your site. I loved W.H. Auden's Funeral Blues, I'm just curious
who it was written about!
From: Tiarnan.OCorrian@
I believe "Epitaph on a Tyrant", rather than "Funeral Blues" is about
Mussolini:
"Perfection, of a kind, was what he was after,
And the poetry he invented was easy to understand.
He knew human nature 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."
From: "Andrea Strappa" <a_strappa@>
I made a musical setting for "Funeral Blues". This is a very great poem.
If you wont, there is an mp3 in my site (Mary O'Connor is the singing):
www.andrea-strappa.it
any comment is appreciate
Andrea Strappa
From: "Anna Maccario" <anna.maccario@>
commento della poesia Funeral Blues
From: "Melayna" <memac5@>
You know I must agree with the person who said that this poem should
come from a Scotsman. I lived 37 years with a "bloody Scotsman", my
mother. She was a GREAT lady. I heard this poem from the movie "Four
Weddings..." and my heart stopped, those spoken words rang true to her
form, it described exactly how I was feeling, I had lost my mother to
cancel just a few short months before. You see she was "my North, my
South, my East and West..." I and my daddy don't want the stars now and
we've packed up our moon and took down our sun and there are the days we
feel that "nothing now can ever come to any good." I must also agree
with another reader on the point of the "sweep up the wood", not woods.
A Scotsman would not have stated it plural. It is a strangely beautiful
poem and one to absorb. If you have felt this way you truely have felt
LOVE. So how can it not be beautiful. I leave you my mother's favorite
saying..."Ta Ta Love"
From: "smallcheryl" <smallcheryl@>
I heard this poem for the first time in 4 weddings...after my husband
died - It is totally fitting - a loss of love and friendship. A loss.
My heart felt like this at the time of his death.
From: "Eve Bernshaw" <ebernshaw@>
Eve Bernshaw
From: "James C." <jcotts19@>
I studied Auden in school but that was long ago. My library contains a
collection of his poems; cc 1957... by which time Auden had not yet written
"Funeral Blues". There is, hovever, a shorter work: "Roman Wall Blues"
which might be of interest to this group. I am glad that I stumbled upon it
last night.
___________________________________
Over the heather the wet wind blows,
I've lice in my tunic and a cold in my nose.
The mist creeps over the hard grey stone,
My girl's in Tungria; I sleep alone.
Aulus goes hanging around her place
I don't like his manner, I don't like his face.
Piso's a Christian, he worships a fish.
There's be no kissing if he has his wish.
She gave me a ring but I diced it away;
I want my girl and I want my pay.
When I'm a veteran with only one eye
I shall do nothing but look at the sky.
W.H. Auden
________________________
This was a fine poet with a boundless imagination.
James C. Courtney