W H Auden

stiu ca mesajele trebuie scrise in limba romana sau cel putin traduse, dar am gasit o poezie englezeasca MINUNATA(pe care n-as putea-o traduce) si simt nevoia sa v-o spun si voua.Este vorba de durerea provocata la moartea celui drag
Sper sa va placa

''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 the 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 traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves
He was my North, my South, my East and Weast
My working week,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 everyone;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;

For nothing now can ever come to any good.

W H Auden

anangel_lexi spune:

Mi se pare superba poezia. Imi poti spune mai multe despre autoare?

Sometimes I still lose my mind/ when life is cruel and unkind/ but it's when I suffer that I learn/in a repenting heart love will burn/oh I'm/ thanking blessed Mary for light divine