Saturday, August 1, 2009

Epitaph on a Tyrant

Perfection, of a kind, was what he was after,
And the poetry he invented was easy to understand;
He knew human folly like the back of his hand,
And he was greatly interested in armies and fleets;
When he laughed, respectable senators burst with laughter,
And when he cried the little children died in the streets.

-W.H. Auden-

2 comments:

Mild Colonial Boy, Esq. said...

Hello Mr Banks,

Isn't it "He KNEW human folly like the back of his hand."

This is rather a co-incidence because I've just put up a few poems on the death of politicians.

Thomas Banks said...

I stand corrected; gratias maximas tibi ago. Viewed your selections, especially liked the Kipling. Have you read his "Bonfire on the Ice?" It cannot help but be relevant in any age of demagogues, and so perhaps eternally.

Best regards.