Breughels "The Fall of Icarus". "Musée des Beaux Arts" - Wystan Hugh 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 Breughel's Icarus, for instance: how everything turns away
Quite leisurely from the disaster; the ploughman 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.
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 Breughel's Icarus, for instance: how everything turns away
Quite leisurely from the disaster; the ploughman 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.
W.H. Auden är nog min favoritpoet. Jag gillar verkligen den här dikten och vad den står för, även om det är lite tragiskt. Hittar ni Icarus på bilden, förresten? Inte helt lätt!
Nu borde jag äta och sedan plugga. En massa annan skit har kommit i vägen. Jag har inte tid för något annat än att plugga för tillfället, men det har inte alla förstått (min hjärna, till exempel!). Det är märkligt att jag alltid måste må som sämst när det är tentavecka. Fast det kanske hör till? Det kanske är meningen? Hallelujah!
/H (qui que tu sois, voici ton maître, il est, le fut, ou le doit être)
Nu borde jag äta och sedan plugga. En massa annan skit har kommit i vägen. Jag har inte tid för något annat än att plugga för tillfället, men det har inte alla förstått (min hjärna, till exempel!). Det är märkligt att jag alltid måste må som sämst när det är tentavecka. Fast det kanske hör till? Det kanske är meningen? Hallelujah!
/H (qui que tu sois, voici ton maître, il est, le fut, ou le doit être)
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