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Inlägg #1: Postat: 2005-03-24 20:27:00
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Sunny |
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crêpe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
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Inlägg #2: Postat: 2005-03-24 20:28:00
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Sunny |
He was my North, my South, my East and my West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song:
I thought that love would last for ever;
I was wrong.
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Inlägg #3: Postat: 2005-03-24 20:29:00
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Sunny |
Det blev lite hackigt men det är en dikt av någon WH Auden som förstår
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Inlägg #4: Postat: 2005-03-24 20:33:00
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Sunny |
sorry: glömde vers 4
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
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