Thursday, October 13, 2005


After Eduardo's post of Auden's "Musee des Beaux Arts," and how it is linked in his mind to the memory of Matthew Shepard's murder. A "carved poem" of Auden's poem:

— About suffering they were never wrong . . .
Auden, “Musée des Beaux Arts”

But we understood its place.
Someone is opening a window,

passionately waiting the miraculous.
Birth always must want to happen.

A pond, the dread corner, untidy
dogs, the torturer’s innocent tree.

Everything turns away: disaster, failure.
The delicate boy goes to sail.



Ginger Heatter said...

Extraordinary, Peter. Just extraordinary!

A. D. said...


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Pamela said...

This is beautiful and haunting.

Pamela said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Emily Lloyd said...

Beautiful, especially the last line.

Charles said...


A. D. said...

Thought i'd try my hand. [I cheated in changing 'forgot' to 'forget'.]


Suffering wrong
they understood position,

how it takes someone else
opening dully,

how the aged must want to forget martyrdom.
Some untidy spot dogs their life:

the torturer's instance,
how disaster may splash.

The forsaken cry for an important sun
on the disappearing water,

the delicate must,
amazing sky.

Peter said...

AD: Wow. love it.

Steven D. Schroeder said...

Cool concept this carving is. I carved some words into smaller words, but never added or switched (I think :-).


About suffering, wrong, how human it is:
A window, dully aged.
Reverent, passionate, miraculous must
be children who did not happen
at the edge. Never the martyr
in a corner where the dogs go,
the torturer behind a tree turns
from the forsaken.
For the sun on white legs--
disappearing, delicate, something--
the sky had to sail.

Peter said...

Nice, Steve.
I broke down words and took parts of words to make other words, too. There are no hard and fast rules.