nyny

The More Loving One

I've never really been one for poetry. I think it's because my high school English teacher never focused on it or made us study it beyond the bare bones requirements of scansion patterns. She said that there's no standard by which to grade a poem since it's all "art" and anything could be a poem. So instead we focused on literature, essays, themes, etc. At the time this didn't bother me, but as I get older I am beginning to feel more and more cheated. I'm just now sort of discovering poetry and I'm completely surprised at how much I like it. Here's a poem I ran across today that really resonated with me.

It's called "The More Loving One" by W.H. Auden.

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 darkness sublime,
Though this might take me a little time.


chew on that for a bit.

posted by becka @ 12:04 AM