When I hear the name of the poet W.H. Auden, I think instantly of the poem September 1, 1939. This poem is named for the day on which Germany launched its Lightning-war on Poland. Auden understood the significance of the date, and the poem contains some of the most memorable and so the most commonly quoted verse lines of the 20th century, including his lament about the proud German culture and to what it had come.
Accurate scholarship can
Unearth the whole offence
From Luther until now
That has driven a culture mad,
Find what occurred at Linz
What huge imago made
A psychopathic god....
Recognizing all of that, I am happy to report my own discovery and delight -- that Auden has other less heavily freighted sides. Here is a love poem of his that consists of an extended rif on two loves -- the love many humans have for the sight of a cloudless starry night sky, and the love we have, at our best, for one another.
The More Loving One
Looking up at the stars, I know quite well That, for all they care, I can go to hell, But on earth indifference is the least We have to dread from man or beast. How should we like it were stars to burn With a passion for us we could not return? If equal affection cannot be, Let the more loving one be me. Admirer as I think I am Of stars that do not give a damn, I cannot, now I see them, say I missed one terribly all day. Were all stars to disappear or die, I should learn to look at an empty sky And feel its total dark sublime, Though this might take me a little time.
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