A picture. An epitaph.

pregnant pause

Defenseless under the night
Our world in stupor lies;
Yet, dotted everywhere,
Ironic points of light
Flash out wherever the Just
Exchange their messages:
May I, composed like them
Of Eros and of dust,
Beleaguered by the same
Negation and despair,
Show an affirming flame.

W.H. Auden, “September 1, 1939”

2 thoughts on “A picture. An epitaph.”

  1. I've never understood why Auden removed that from his works. Luckily, his decision is ignored by most. That poem sums our situation up right now the best.

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