THEIR LONELY BETTERS
As I listened from a beach-chair in the shade
To all the noises that my garden made,
It seemed to me only proper that words
Should be withheld from vegetables and birds.
A robin with no Christian name ran through
The Robin-Anthem which was all it knew,
And rustling flowers for some third party waited
To say which pairs, if any, should get mated.
No one of them was capable of lying,
There was not one which knew that it was dying
Or could have with a rhythm or a rhyme
Assumed responsibility for time.
Let them leave language to their lonely betters
Who count some days and long for certain letters;
We, too, make noises when we laugh or weep:
Words are for those with promises to keep.
-- W. H. Auden --
from Art and Nature: An Illustrated Anthology of Nature Poetry
And miles to go before we sleep.
And miles to go before we sleep.
Does being able to create poetry make up for this loneliness?
i should surmise that expression of emotion is one way of dealing with it... i like Auden's poems but i think his criticism is even better... The Enchafed Flood i thought was very good... his poems partake of a larger perspective which appeals; there's almost a humorous element in many of them which both eases the anxiety in them and provides a larger grasp at the same time... i've learned from his work, and am happy to have read it...
ReplyDeleteMudpuddle--I know little about Auden. This is a poem that was included in anthology and it seemed to resonate with a previous post about Eiseley and Silverberg--intelligence of a kind that humans can't communicate with.
DeleteI will do a search on The Enchafed Flood. Do you have a collection of Auden's poetry?
no... just what i've browsed through here and there...
DeleteMudpuddle--which still is more contact than what I have had.
DeleteI just put through an InterLibraryLoan request for The Enchafed Flood.
Thanks for sharing one by Auden. I too know too little by and about him. There is something doleful and existential in my reaction to the poem. Perhaps it's just me. Remind me to tell you someday about Auden, Brooklyn, and one of my research projects. We'll save the story for later.
ReplyDeleteR.T.--I think the title and the last stanza suggest something of what you're saying--"lonely betters." I vaguely remember an a autobiography or perhaps a biography about a poor little rich kid who had all these advantages but paid a price for them.
DeleteIs Auden suggesting we too have paid a price for our supposed superior intelligence which gives us language?
It sounds a bit like Beckett who lamented the inadequacy of language but embraced it because there was no alternative in life.
DeleteR.T.--yes, I can see that. I don't see Beckett's insistence on the absurdity of reality in this poem, though.
DeleteThough I am not sure if language makes up for our loneliness. Poetry and other forms of literature lets us express our experience of it, sometimes in sublime ways.
ReplyDeleteI have never read this poem before. I like it a lot.
Brian Joseph--perhaps being able to express our loneliness is the best we can hope for. Expressing it does help sometimes.
DeleteIt was a first exposure for me also--it got the first time.
I definitely think writing poetry or prose can make up for a lot of loneliness. Maybe it's a retreat into our head but one that is filled with many memories. It's also an outlet of expression which I think takes away pressure of pent up emotions.
ReplyDeleteI've read a lot of Auden's poetry and I am currently making my way through his long poems.
Sharon--as I mentioned earlier, I have read little by Auden, but I will try to look more closely into his writings in the future.
DeleteIs this poem typical of his poetry?
It strikes me as typical of his writing. Now the long poem was very much his thoughts running together at a quick pace for pages. His short poems are a little more reflective but they also seem to run at a clip and it is also his mind rotating around a specific concept and developing it.
DeleteSharon--Thanks. I'll keep that in mind when I take a longer look at his poetry.
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