tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14496565.post114375511376366904..comments2008-09-28T22:33:34.540+01:00Comments on The Silver Eel: The Silver Eelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03615661656637047142noreply@blogger.comBlogger2125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14496565.post-1145392537675556802006-04-18T21:35:00.000+01:002006-04-18T21:35:00.000+01:00Well, maybe so, but I get the impression from what...Well, maybe so, but I get the impression from what I've read so far that England in general just ticked him off - the climate, the pettiness, the absence of glamour, of exuberance. Pre-rock 'n' roll. He does curmudgeonly pretty well.The Silver Eelhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03615661656637047142noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14496565.post-1145281664859685812006-04-17T14:47:00.000+01:002006-04-17T14:47:00.000+01:00Had somebody close to him died when he wrote that,...Had somebody close to him died when he wrote that, do you think?<BR/><BR/>Funeral Blues<BR/><BR/>Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,<BR/>Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,<BR/>Silence the pianos and with muffled drum<BR/>Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.<BR/><BR/>Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead<BR/>Scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead.<BR/>Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,<BR/>Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.<BR/><BR/>He was my North, my South, my East and West,<BR/>My working week and my Sunday rest,<BR/>My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;<BR/>I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.<BR/><BR/>The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,<BR/>Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,<BR/>Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;<BR/>For nothing now can ever come to any good.<BR/><BR/> -- W.H. AudenYewtreehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/02028699564003381058noreply@blogger.com