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Musée des Beaux Arts
sound
W. H. Auden
About suffering they were never wrong, The Old
Masters: how well they understood Its human position; how it takes
place While someone else is eating or opening a window or just walking dully
along; How, when the aged are reverently, passionately waiting For the
miraculous birth, there always must be Children who did not specially want it
to happen, skating On a pond at the edge of the wood: They never
forgot That even the dreadful martyrdom must run its course Anyhow in a
corner, some untidy spot Where the dogs go on with their doggy life and the
torturer's horse Scratches its innocent behind on a tree.
In Brueghel's Icarus, for instance: how everything
turns away Quite leisurely from the disaster; the plowman may Have heard
the splash, the forsaken cry, But for him it was not an important failure;
the sun shone As it had to on the white legs disappearing into the
green Water; and the expensive delicate ship that must have seen Something
amazing, a boy falling out of the sky, Had somewhere to get to and sailed
calmly on.
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W.
H. Auden (1907-1973)
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