...For poetry makes nothing happen: it survives
In the valley of its making where executives
Would never want to tamper, flows on south
From ranches of isolation and the busy griefs,
Raw towns that we believe and die in; it survives,
A way of happening, a mouth.
The current of his feeling failed; he became his admirers.And on the speed: I wouldn't be at all surprised if Auden had ADHD -- speed is quite a benefit for such people. Sounds like Auden had a much healthier attitude about drugs than most people, acknowledging not only the dangers, but also the benefits.
Now he is scattered among a hundred cities
And wholly given over to unfamiliar affections,
To find his happiness in another kind of wood
And be punished under a foreign code of conscience.
The words of a dead man
Are modified in the guts of the living.
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As his literary executor Edward Mendelson put in yesterday's Wall Street Journal, Auden's poetry "has a 'visionary quality' that involves 'seeing the infinite value of what's right in front of you.'"
posted by Vidiot at 10:57 PM on February 20, 2007