Tuesday, November 2, 2010

Auden's Funeral Blues paraphrase

Stop all the clocks, cut off the throats,
Prevent the dolls from crying with a perky voice,
Silence the children and with muffled drum
Bring out the golden calf, let the worshippers come.

Let bloggers surf moaning in the Internet
Scribbling on their webs the message God is Dead.
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public whores,
Let the NBA players wear black calf gloves.

He was my home, my mouth, my skin and breast,
My rotten week and my Sunday rest,
My doom, my insight, my lock, my song;
I thought boredom would last forever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;
For no one now can say You were any good.


  1. Eres único intercalando estrofas-perlitas, incluso en un poema inglés.
    Lo utilizaron en Cuatro bodas y un funeral, isn´t it?
    Pues eso.
    So long

  2. sniffing as usual?...

    about funerals and dust...
    I heard something about Keith Richards...

  3. As usual. Maradona's way. Keith Richards is disgusting. To sniff his father... at least he could have sniffed his mother in law. What a careto! Much worse than that of the gorrillas in Virgen del Rocío hospital.

  4. unfortunately I know that zone very well, man...
    but only there you can find invisible elastics cheap pants... any color... that's great, man...

  5. This poeme remembed for mi a song: yesterday of the beatles, I don't now wash.
    You can lising que I wraiting best, true?
    one salutation for you, ugle alájarman.

  6. Th'is a very dommage the censure of youre blog, Joseph Michael. I don't feel confortable in your house!!!
    three saludations. Th'is my last interventions!

  7. Don't get angry. It's only for old posts, so I can notice when people make a comment.

    Your English is getting better and better. Go ahead, you monster of Murcia.

    Yesterdayyyyyyy, you were confortable in my blooooog....

    Get baaaaack!!